


sHE

by fishysama



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, Genderbending, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Prostitution, Trans Female Character, Trans Kisa Shouta, sorry lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:09:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishysama/pseuds/fishysama
Summary: lily: chastity and virtue; friendship; sympathy; humility and devotion; the restored innocence of departed souls.





	1. 1

It wasn’t her fault that she was here. It was a simple mistake, honestly. She knew she shouldn’t have been out that late. But she wanted to see him, her boyfriend. She thought that he was a good person. She thought…

She thought she was loved. It always started with that, the simple thought of being loved. If only she knew what all of that meant… maybe then she would be happy. Maybe then she could run away. Maybe she wouldn’t have gotten into this mess in the first place.

If only, if only.

* * *

“Kisa, you’re off today.” The boss held a cigar between his thumb and index finger like he was the shit. He wasn’t the shit. “You’ve been doing well lately, giving us half of a revenue. You’re nearly doing as great as Chelsea does.” He takes a drag from his cig before muttering something. She didn’t need to hear what he said. _ I’m surprised that some of the guys stayed after seeing that cock of yours. _ The filthy words didn’t hurt her anymore. She was used to them.

Besides, she had plenty worse.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll do some cleaning up around the bar.”

“That would be of use. Go.”

“Yessir.”

She brushed shoulders with her friend, Watanabe Ani. “Congratulations, Kisa!”

Sayuri smiled back, “Thanks.” She met eyes with the other girls, all close to her, all in the same situation. It felt more friendly if she faced the other way. She pressed past the parlor-style doors, chips of green paint falling off at a single touch. The mint flecks met the ground with the others, forgotten and trampled.  _ It’s just like us, _ she thought.

_ It’s just like us. _

* * *

Making her way back to the main room, she peered into the makeup room, right behind the stage. Maki, Ani’s sister, was getting ready for the night, already dressed in some sort of latex legging and an untied black corset. She leaned over the vanity and glared at the mirror, attempting to apply eyeshadow. Next to her, Sakura was curling her hair for the third time this week. A pair of pumps stood behind each of them.

Sayuri giggled, “Boo!”

Maki flat-out screamed and dragged the mascara brush across her face, while Sakura remained unaffected.

Maki shouted, “Ugh, you asshole! Now I have to redo my eyebrows too…”

Sayuri smiled, “Sorry~! Listen, I’m off tonight so we can do the ‘collab thing’ tomorrow.”

“Thank God! I get to go another day without kissing you,” Maki-chan replied sarcastically.

Sayuri played along, “See ya tomorrow, bitch!”

“Bye whore!”

Sakura stood confused. As a newbie, she was unaware of the pairs constant “arguments.” She would learn soon.

To clarify, the place where Sayuri was forced to work was  _ advertised _ as a “gentlemen’s club”. And, it was  _ technically _ a “gentlemen’s club”. But, it was past that thin line that separates pole dancers from, well, sex workers. It was a brothel. That was the better word for it, anyways. A brothel, totally run by human trafficking. There.

The place got most of its income from the prostitution, not from the dancing. Nearly all of the men that went in here knew what was happening. There were rarely newcomers.

Sayuri had no regular customers, for obvious reasons. It’s not often that a man goes to a brothel looking for a short, old trans chick who’s into beautiful guys. And when they do come, she usually wakes up half-drugged and with strange bruises all over her body.

Not that it was different from anyone else.

* * *

Chelsea sat at the lunch table, drawing hearts in her well-deserved cocaine stash. She held a cell phone to her ear, speaking in English. She was already dressed, all fishnets, freshly bleached hair, and fake nails. Sayuri sat across from her, taking a protein bar out of her purse.

“ _ Bye-bye!! _ ” Chelsea hung up the phone, muttering, “ _ Fucking bitch… _ ” Sayuri had only gotten a year of English classes, so she barely got anything out Chelsea's foreign conversations. She slipped the phone under the table, “Hi Yuri-chan! Are you off this night?” She was getting better at Japanese.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Ah, congratulations! You worked really hard this week!” The highlighter-yellow leather halter she wore showed off her curves, skin tight to the point where you could make out the details of her nipple piercings. Sayuri, despite her forced occupation, could never dress like that.

Sayuri held out another protein bar, “Want one?”

“Uh, no, I’m fasting tonight. I need to lose some weight.” She grabbed a straw out of her bag and snorted a line, “Plus, it ruins my high.”

She walked off while rubbing her nose, high heels clicking away.

“Whatever you say…” Sayuri murmured, taking another bite of the bar.

* * *

Sayuri was most comfortable here, in her bed with her sweatshirt on, scrolling through Twitter with Ani-chan. She just got off her shift and was enthralled with telling her Yuri-chan about what happened. “...And then that guy started to follow me off the stage, like, what a fucking creep! I tried telling him that he had to say something beforehand, but… He had a big cock so whatever…”

Sayuri looked up from her phone, clicking her tongue, “Are you sure you got forced into this?”

“Don’t joke like that!!!,” she punched her arm, “At least I actually get requested every once and awhile- OW!”

Sayuri yanked at her hair, “I’m sure you know why that i-,” she held up her phone.  _ New! Special Present!! ★☆EXTRA DECEMBER RELEASE OUT 12/10☆★ _ FEATURING THE PREMIER OF  _ Girl’s Mast _ \- Sayuri dropped her phone after seeing the dates matched up, slightly shaking.

Ani snapped out of her angry trance, seeing that something was obviously wrong with her friend. “Yuri-ch-”

Sayuri sat straight up in the bed, screaming, “THE NEW  _ EMERALD _ MAGAZINE IS OUT TODAY!! SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!!! I SHOULD’VE GONE THIS MORNING!!”

“OI, SHUT UP OVER THERE! I’M TRYING TO SLEEP!” A yell emitted from the lump of blankets across from them, which they assumed to be Saki-chan.

“I’m going to Marimo Books, I’ll be back in an hour!” Sayuri practically ran out of bed after slipping on a pair of sneakers.

“Wait, Yuri-chan! Don’t go out by yourself!!” Ani tried running after her, but she was already out into the streets.

* * *

The doors of Marimo Books busted open. A petite, youthful looking girl stood there, holding her knees and panting heavily. She spoke to herself louder than she intended, “Wah… I finally made it, a few minutes before it closes too…”

Yukina Kou stopping restocking shelves to find out what the what the commotion was about. He rarely took the late shift, but when he did, it was completely silent. Matsumoto looked over the bookshelf at Yukina, who was also confused on what the noise was. Yukina cautiously paced to the entrance of the store.

At the sight of the well-known “prince” of Marimo Books, the girl stood up straight and brushed the raven hair from her flushed face, “Y-Yukina! I-um, do you have any copies of the Emerald magazine here- Well, I mean, of course you do! Right?”

Yukina gave her a big, salesman-like smile, “Yes, we have a few copies left over here. Follow me!” Yukina recognized the girl from some previous time she had shopped here. Kisa… Shouta is what her membership card said. 

“Ah, okay!” The girl followed suit, trying to keep up with Yukina’s pace. “Um… Sorry for disturbing you… I was going to come earlier today, but stuff got in the way, y’know?”

Yukina stopped at the magazine section and met the girl with another grin, “It’s okay. I’m really happy that I got to see you today, Kisa-chan.”

_ Kis-  _ Her face went up in flames, “Y-You remember my name?”

“Of course I do!” He tilted his head to the left, “Why wouldn’t I?”

She seemed to be in a trance for a moment before snapping back into reality. It only ever meant that Yukina’s sales ploy was working, at least to him. “I- um, oh! There it is!” She pointed at a magazine, “Ah, I can’t believe that they added a new manga! I’m super excited!!”

“I read it this morning before work, it’s really good! I think you’ll love it too!”

She picked up a copy of the magazine, unconsciously smiling, “Um, should I pay at the cash register?”

“Of course. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she put her head down, “N-no, that’s okay.”

They walked back to the front of the store, chatting softly through the empty halls of the bookstore.

Just as they reached the register, the store doors opened once again. A tall, raven-haired businessman entered, looking out of breath.

“Oh, Yukina! Do you mind if I talk to you for a second? I almost forgot to check sales h-”

Iokawa, a businessman who came into the store in the later hours to check sales, poked his head out from the shelves, “Yokozawa-san! Over here!!”

“Huh-?” The man stiffened up at the sight of Iokawa, “O-one second.” He trudged to the back of the store.

Yukina shrugged and went behind the line of registers. “1350, please.”

She handed him a handful of change (pre-counted perfectly) and her lime-green “Marimo card”, nearly brushing the skin of his palm-

“HAVE A GOOD EVENING, YUKINA-SAN!”

With that, she bolted out the door.

Yukina smiled and placed the money in the register and went back to restocking books.

Girls like her came into the store all the time. They all were eager to see Yukina, of course, all coming in with the same similar expression. But, Kisa… she seemed afraid.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that it took me so long to post this!! i made the decision to split the chapter that i was writing into two parts, so the second will be up next week. enjoy :)

“You won’t believe it.”

Ani just got off her shift at the local flower shop and was ready to hear all of Sayuri’s gossip from the night before. It was 22:15, exactly 15 minutes before her and Maki’s shift. She was applying eyeliner while frantically talking to Ani. Ani was behind her, braiding her hair into pigtails.

Ani’s acrylic nails threaded a hair tie onto the end of her right braid. “Oh my god, what happened!!”

“He called me ‘Kisa-chan.’” Sayuri’s face went red from just the thought of it. _He remembered my name, he remembered my name, he remembered my name, he re-_

“KYAAAAAA!!” Ani pulled Sayuri’s hair out of pure joy, which she promptly got scolded for. “Did anything else happen!! Tell me, tell me, tell m-”

“That’s it. I’m going to get Maki.” Sayuri stood up, makeup finally done.

Ani pouted, “Eh, that’s all? Take me to see him once in awhile, okay?” Ani was an avid stalker of Sayuri’s passing crushes, and Yukina was her personal favorite.

She shrugged, “Whatever- Oh, shit, almost forgot.” She looked through the bottom drawer of the vanity and pulled out a pill bottle. She swallowed a small, blue pill dry, “See you later.” 

* * *

“Working here means I get to spend time with you guys.” Yukina flashed his signature smile, and the girls screeched. _I also prefer shoujo manga to other genres of manga. The sappy, sparkly love stories make me cry._

A girl with lengthy brown hair melodramatically asked, “Yukina-kun~, I wish I could stay here all the time, but I don’t have enough money to buy the new manga! What do think I should do?”

He put his hand on his chin in thought, “Well, I think that you should save up a lot of money so we can talk about the newest release. It’s not as fun without having you around.”

The girl practically fainted, having her friends catch her.

The group of girls took awhile to clear out, all of them leaving with a new copy of _Girls Master_. The hours he spent working here seemed to be getting longer this week His mind kept wandering to the girl that came here a week before, Kisa-chan. He would find himself looking through each pack of girls for her, even getting excited every time the door opened. He tried to distract himself, saying that it was only because she left her card here and that he wanted to give it back… He knew it was something deeper.

The door opened for the first time in twenty-three minutes. Things started to wind down after 9, so the door jingling was an uncommon sound in the “night shift.” Yukina usually wondered why the store even stayed open this late. But now, he preferred taking the later shifts. The chances of seeing Kisa-chan improved-

“Hey~! Yukina?!”

That definitely wasn’t her. “Iokawa…?”

One of his college friends drunkenly into sight, “Hey~, when are ya closing up shop~!?”

“Oh… Pretty soon I think…” Yukina continued restocking the shounen shelves nonchalantly.

“Don’t gimme that face, meanie…~!” He grabbed onto one of the shelves, nearly knocking over one of the displays over.

Yukina balanced the display, “What face?”

“This one!” He poked Yukina’s cheek annoyingly before continuing his drunken rambling, “My brother’s havin’ his bachelor party tonight an’ I don’t have any friends to go with~. Can you come with me?? Please~?”

“No,” he answered promptly, putting the last of the “Da Kan” copies on the shelve, “That should do it.”

“Come on~ we’re going to a strip club~!” He had a toothy smile plastered to his face like that was all that great. He pulled something out of his pocket. “I’ll pay you.” 12,000 yen in cash.

“Jesus, fine.”

* * *

 “We’re on in a minute, hurry up!” Maki’s booming voice came from behind Sayuri, making her jump. They often scared each other, almost to the point of being flirty. Sayuri was pretty sure that Maki _intended_ for it to be flirty. It was just about obvious that Maki had a crush on Sayuri, with that dreamy look in her eyes and all. Maki was the one that flat out asked for an act with Sayuri, without her consent, to confirm.

 

The brothel often held these host club-like “acts,” mainly because the boss liked lesbians (and has been seen _multiple_ times jacking off to the security cameras.) Maki was the only “non-hetero” in the crowd, so it made sense that she was part of the acts, but the rest of them… not so much. It made sense that the innocent _Shiro Ai_ (Sayuri’s _forced_ stage name) and the naughty _Kurai Ai_ (Maki’s _chosen_ stage name) would do something with each other, but the things that they did were… a bit vulgar.

 

“Haha!” Maki smirked, sliding her arms onto Sayuri’s stomach, uncomfortably close to her breasts, “Made you jump!”

Sayuri tensed up, applying a final coat of lipstick, “Go away.”

“Oi, Kisa,” The harsh tone came from Sakura, “I think your little Yukina’s out there.”

Sayuri immediately dropped the tube of lipstick and shifted around, “…Huh?”

Sakura lit a cigarette and mocked, “Well, considering all the hours you’ve spent babbling about him, I think I would recognize the ‘tan-haired, brown-eyed prince’ if I saw him.”

Sayuri stood up, simultaneously pushing Maki off her, mumbling, “…piercings…”

“What?”

“How many piercings does he have?”

Sakura scratched the back of her head, “I dunno, a couple, I guess. His friend just tried to fuck me. They’re all wasted.”

“O-oh…,” Sayuri wobbled over to the younger, still not used to heels. Then the shock settled in. “...I CAN’T DO THIS!!” She ran back over to Maki, screaming and crying like a little girl. “Please don’t make me go out there, oh my god, I’ll faint! Die! On that stupid fucking stage, oh my god, oh my god, please don’t-”

Maki rolled her eyes and petted Sayuri’s hair, cooing, “There, there. You’ll be fine, it’s probably not even him…” Sayuri had a panic attack like this every time she went on stage, so this wasn’t any surprise.

Sayuri sniffled, “Yeah, I guess you’re right… We should get out there.”

“ _You_ should, honey,” Maki smirked softly, kissing her shoulder.

“AH! Yep, I’m going!” Sayuri pattered away.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nsfw/relatively rapey shit ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this took me so long to get up (again)!!! i'll try to update more often, but school is shit so

_ Oh god. _

The spotlight flicked on, nearly blinding Sayuri. Now she could see it.

The inside of the brothel was pretty bare bones, having a couple of seats on either side of the stage, a bar and a stereo in the back, playing some burlesque mixtape that the bartender made up. There was a young girl working the pole to the left of her, nude and clearly high. She didn’t live here so her name was unknown. Some regulars were already moving away at the sight of Sayuri. She was used to it.

As Saki-chan said, there was a fairly large crowd of men, respectively drunk off their asses. And there was… a guy with tan hair, texting, clearly not interested in anything that was going on in the club, who looked a  _ lot _ like a certain Yukina. His friend was elbowing him in the stomach, practically shouting “Look! Look!”

She cleared her voice and swallowed.

“H-hey boys! How’re y’all doin’ tonight?” Sayuri let her old accent through and twirled her left pigtail.  _ Script, script, script. _

One of the guys hollered and whistled, the rest just continued chatting.

She tried to not stare at the Yukina-looking guy and picked a spot on the wall to staring at, “Well, um, I'm Shiro-chan, and if y’all wanna tip me, my box is right here, okay?” She faked a smile and pointed at the box hanging off the stage. The guy from before ran up there and slipped in a 1000. He was a rabid dog, and it disgusted her. Before he had a chance to run off, she kneeled and grabbed his ear and whispered, “Thank you, sweetie, but just so y’know, you can't get it back, no matter what. Okay~?”

The drunk giggled back, “You deserve it, darling.”

_ Sure I do. _

She stood back up, “Well, um, me and a friend were supposed t’ have a little show tonight, but I think she's off somewhere… You guys don't mind a solo, do ya?”

She looked back at Yukina-guy, a mistake. Now he was looking up at her, in her eyes. That was definitely Yukina. His perfect hazel eyes were popping out of his perfect face, and his hand covered his strong jaw and perfectly smooth lips-

They were staring at each other, locked eyes. They both looked somewhere between lust and fear. Sayuri blinked and pretend that nothing happened. But she had that look on her face. Her eyes were glazed over and her cheeks turned hot. And Yukina definitely recognized that.

She tried to breathe. In. Out. Okay.

She bit her lip and prayed that it wouldn't leave a mark on her teeth. She undid the first buttons on the top of her dress. She looked into the crowd, and giggled, “S-stop starin’!” to hide the fact that she felt like she was gonna puke.

In time, the top of her dress was completely undone. This part was always the worst, and this time it was even more terrible. Yukina was still gawking at her, she hadn't looked over but she could feel it. His friend elbowed him again, “What? You like her?” And the  _ best _ part of all was that she could feel the Viagra kicking in.  _ Where the hell is Maki when you need her? _

She moved her spaghetti straps off her shoulders, leaving her breasts fully exposed. She felt like she was going to die. She forced herself to look into the crowd and twisted her right nipple.

Over the music, she finally heard the reassuring stilettos clicking towards her. Sayuri put on a mask of shock, quickly re-buttoning the top of her dress.

“What are you doing out here without me?” Maki’s stern voice was calming for once.

“Ah! N-nothing, Kurai-chan! I’m sorry!” Sayuri whipped around and mouthed  _ “It’s him.” _

Maki just smiled and continued with their script, “Oh? Then what’s this?” She touched one of the buttons, clearly skipped, “Did you forget to do this one?”

Sayuri widened her eyes, “N-”

Maki leaned in closer, squeezing Sayuri’s breast, “Your nipples are hard, Shi-chan.”

The guy in the back whistled, she could recognize it now. He was a regular.

“Um-ah, K-Kurai, I really wasn’t-”

Maki sealed the distance quickly, still playing with her breasts. She closed her eyes. They had practiced this hundreds of times, but it still made her uncomfortable.  _ Just pretend that she’s a guy. _ She kissed back as best as she could, still feeling Yukina’s eyes boring into her. She heard the security camera give off a high pitched squeak. Now it was focused on them. It made her sick. She pulled after exactly three seconds, panting and pretending to rub her lips.

“Shi-chan~, I think I need to punish you, showing your body off without me…” Maki smirked and used her other hand to grab Sayuri’s ass, “Don’t you think so?”

Sayuri pressed her face into Maki’s shoulder, too embarrassed to look up anymore. She simply whispered and stuck out her ass, “O-Okay.” This time a little louder, so their little audience could hear, “I’m sorr- AH!”

Maki had already started spanking her, and it hurt like  _ hell _ . She forgot how harsh she was (and why she was even into this). She grabbed onto the strings of Maki’s corset.

“Do you like that?” Maki stopped to squeeze the left cheek. The stuff she said on stage, Sayuri thought, were only suitable for a porno.

“K-Kurai, stop it, I’m serious!!” She pushed Maki away, quickly holding down the skirt of the dress.

“Heh. It seems like you’re enjoying it, no?” Maki kneed at her crotch.  _ No, this was definitely the worst part _ . Now it was visible.

She looked over at Yukina even though she knew it was a bad idea. His eyes were still wide, this time, just more confused. Her stomach acid went in sloshed sorts of different directions. The fact that  _ Yukina _ was looking at her like  _ that _ made her heart explode.

“Do you want to take this off, Shi-chan? You look hot…” Maki’s voice was mocking and rough, but her expression was softer, kinder. It was nice having someone who loves you.

“N-no! Stop it!” Maki got her arms out of the spaghetti straps, slowly pulling the top of the dress up. The skirt was already too short, and she was glad that she wasn’t facing forward at this point.

“Heh,” Maki smacked her butt again, “Cute. Look, it’s hard already.”

Sayuri’s face went red, “Don’t-!”

Maki kissed her again, making haste to pull the rest of the dress up. She was left in a pair of panties that barely covered anything and white thigh-highs. Maki broke the kiss to pull the dress over her head, and teased, “Your ass is all red, Shi-chan. Does it hurt?”

“Y-yeah,” Sayuri whispered, heart in throat.

Maki dragged her index finger along her cock, “Want to show the boys, Yuri-chan?”

Her eyes went wide, “Don’t! I-I’m serious Mak- AH!”

Maki shot her a look before wrapping her hand around the shaft. They never practiced this part, it made Sayuri too embarrassed.

She moaned softly, getting weak at the knees. It almost  _ hurt _ , the way Maki was touching her.

Just as she was beginning to get used to it, Maki spun her around (with no warning, of course). Sayuri gasped, trying to cover herself up, but… The atmosphere was different now. She could feel the tears coming, clouding up her eyes. Her hour’s worth of makeup would be gone in the next five minutes.

Some of the guys were still into it. Most of the crowd was gone. Yukina sat in the wooden fold up chair, staring at the ground. And that stupid fucking drunk pervert was rubbing himself through his slacks. Yukina looked up.

Her and Yukina’s eyes met again, but this time it was different. There wasn’t anything special about it anymore. She was just a prostitute and he was just… He looked disgusted. His hand covered most of his face, but his eyes…

She gagged. He walked away and Sayuri didn’t even watch him go. Now she was crying.

Maki steady her, noticing something was definitely off. She smirked, using her spare hand to steady her. “It’s alright,” Maki ran her finger across Sayuri’s jawline. 

“He’s just a guy.”


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while i was writing this it became way too long so im cutting it into two parts.  
> part two will probably be up next week or so (meaning six months)  
> enjoy?

“Ugh.”

Even though Sayuri ate most of Ani’s chocolate stash, she still felt like absolute shit. She rolled over on the bed, still trying to absorb what happened. She curled up in her favorite sweater and buried her face into the sleeves. The warm grooves of the cable knit soaked up her tears well, so it was perfect for these nights.

The blinking red light in the corner of her vision reminded her that she was being watched. She hid under the blankets so the camera wouldn’t catch her crying.

_ He hates me. _

The door creaked open, letting in some light. It was times like this that made her realize how bad her living conditions were. She peeked outside the blankets to see the peeling paint and cracked drywall. There was a mysterious brown stain that had been on the left wall since she came here. She didn’t want to ask about it.

She turned away from the door to face the low streetlights coming out of the cell-like basement windows. The second to the left was open, letting in the sounds of the city. The metal fire escape looked eerie with the lack of light. It was a joke. If one opened it, they would only be met with a wall of cement.

“Hey.” Ani’s voice came from the direction of the door, “You okay?”

“...”

“Do you want me to get you something to drink?”

Sayuri clung to the blankets, “Can you steal me a beer from the bar?”

Ani smiled, “I was thinking water… but okay! I'll be back in a minute.”

The door closed again.

Sayuri took a few more tissues from the box on the floor, blowing her nose for the fourth time in the 15 minutes. She felt disgusting. Unworthy. She held the blankets tighter.

The door opened again. “I’m back.” Sayuri heard the sound of a bottle open and immediately sat up, rubbing her eyes. Ani handed her a bottle of Corona, keeping the other to herself. She sat on the foot of the bed.

“Cheers?” Ani held out the neck of her bottle, smiling.

Sayuri looked away and touched their bottles together, not saying anything back. She took back the bottle and chugged half of it, dipping her head back in an exaggerated manner. Ani merely sipped from the mouth, smiling softly.

Sayuri stopped drinking to catch her breath before reaching for the pill packet under her pillow. “Almost forgot.” She popped one of the pink pills into her hand and took it with a sip of beer.

“HRT?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah,” Ani drew circles in the blankets, whispering, “Are you going to tell me what happened or what?”

Sayuri stared down the mouth of the bottle, “No.” She leaned closer to her, extending her free hand. Ani held out her hand as well, trying to look natural. They knew that the camera was watching. Morse code was really the only way to communicate without getting caught. Sayuri softly tapped into her hand.  -..--- -.- -. --.-. -.- ---- ---- .-.. .. -.-.. … .- .-.-- .. ---.- ...-.*

Ani’s face went solemn. She whispered, “I know.”

They stayed quiet for a moment. Sayuri held onto Ani’s hand, making comfort in her warm, smooth skin. She closed her eyes.  _ I wonder what Yukina’s hands feel like. _ She caught herself and moved her hand back onto her lap.

Feeling the tension, Sayuri took another swig and coughed. “Do you have another?”

Ani took another one out of thin air and giggled, “I thought you were thirsty, Yuri-chan.” She popped it open and handed it to Sayuri, who emptied the bottle in record time. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep drinking like that, idiot,” she gestured to the pile of wrappers, now on the floor, “Also, slow down on the chocolate, that won’t help your stomach at all.”

“Sorry.”

Ani, sensing that Sayuri was hurt, added, “Well, nevermind. I guess breakups are what chocolate is for.”

Sayuri took a chocolate-covered pretzel out of a tin, “We weren’t dating in the first place.”

Ani looked away, touching the linen sheets. She stammered, “Listen, um, Maki told me there’s a guy waiting out back for you. I-I mean, I could tell him off if you want me too, I don’t think you should be treated like that tonight.”

Sayuri opened her mouth for a moment, as if she was about to say something, but closed it again. She pressed her lips to the beer bottle.

“Do you want me to go-”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll go. Come check on me if I’m gone for too long.” Sayuri placed the empty bottle on the bed and pulled herself up. Her legs were already starting to feel wobbly with the alcohol in her system.

“How long is too long?”

“...” Sayuri looked back at her for a moment and responded, “I don’t know.”

She paced out of the room while tying her hair up in a messy bun, leaving Ani on her bed with a brow of worry and concern.

 

* * *

 

The door to the VIP rooms was worn metal, nearly all of the white paint chipped off. Its doorknob was painted golden many years before, but it too was flaking off, leaving a shell of bronze behind.

When Sayuri touched the knob even more flakes fell with the touch of her fingers. She wiped them on her sweatpan- She looked down. The coldness she felt while she was walking here could probably be explained by the lack of pants. She grimaced and wiped them on her sweater instead. It’s not like she would be out there for that long. Plus, the sweater was oversized for a reason.

She faced the ground when the door opened. She was 99% sure that it was that drunk pig-of-a-man that was whistling at her before on stage, and she  _ definitely _ did not want to look at that guys face. She closed the door behind her. The man stayed quiet.

“G-Good evening, sir. Sorry that it took me so long to come back here!” She faked a giggle and grabbed the edge of her sweater. “Unfortunately, I won’t be providing services tonight. I’m very sorry. I will also be working for the rest of this week, if you would like to come back then, that would be okay.”

The man was still quiet.

Her palms got clammy and she ended, “Um, well, I’ll go then. Good night!” She made for the door, heart beating out of her chest. When her fingers met the doorknob, the man grabbed onto the back of her sweater.

A sense of self-defense kicked in. She knew that the boss would hurt her if she did anything bad to the guests, but she wasn’t having any of that tonight. She twisted around and grabbed the man’s wrist. She wasn’t thinking. “DON’T TOUCH ME-”

Yukina’s perfect face. She slapped Yukina’s perfect face. His eyes went wide in shock

Her face heated up, “Yu-YUKINA-SAN!?!”

She lifted her head in a sharp panic and yanked the sweater down, in turn making her breasts more visible unintentionally, “Um, ah, I-I’m really, really sorry!! Are you okay!? Shit, shit, shit, I didn’t think it was that was you. I’m not supposed to hit anyone-”

“Kisa.”

Sayuri shut her mouth, rosy-cheeked.  _ Kisa. _

“It’s fine.” Yukina held a solemn face and brushed his hand over the place where she hit him. “Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” She backed away, reaching out to touch the doorknob, “Um, I really should go now… S-sorry for bothering you.”

“Kisa-chan, can we go somewhere? Please?” Yukina’s eyes showed some form of longing, but she could smell the alcohol from a mile away.

She opened the door, still looking into Yukina’s perfect hazy eyes.  _ He hates you. _

Yukina lunged forward, grabbing Sayuri’s wrist “Kisa, I-”

Sayuri looked off to the side, feeling herself getting choked up. She could just give up today, it wasn’t like she could put up with anything else. But…

“S-sorry about that. Please call me ‘Shiro Ai’ here. I’m 8000 yen an hour. Rates are negotiable. Feel free to do anything to me as long as you pay for me. Your identity will not be released to the public, no matter what you do to me. All walls are soundproof, nothing will interrupt your experience.”

She let go of the door knob to wipe the tears that were forming in her eyes, “I apologize for my appearance.”

“…Kisa, I really just want to talk.”

Embarrassment hit her like a brick. Her face flushed over, as she stammered, “O-oh. Okay then.”

There were three doors on the wall opposite from them. The first had a red card stuck in between the doorknob and the door, meaning that it was occupied. The other two had green cards, meaning empty. Hopefully. Sayuri knew that the second door had a camera in it, but she also knew that it was her room for that specific reason. She hesitated at the third. It wasn’t like they were actually doing anything, just having a private conversation. A red light flashed from the upper corner of the hallway.

She opened the second door. “We can go in here.”

Yukina looked at her, his face giving off confusion.

She swallowed, shifting her eyes to the side, “T-There’s a mini fridge…?”

He smiled and strode inside, “Is there?”

She blushed, “Yeah…” Her hand swiftly flipped the card from green to red and closed the door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *It translates to “I hate this place.” had to translate it to japanese and then to wabun code and it took fucking forever :))) i put too much effort into this damn fic


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets pretend this was put up on kisa's birthday, k? didn't edit this cause im exhausted and sorry
> 
> i'll be posting a sinful romantica thing at some point in time, so watch out for that.

It felt warmer in here.

Sayuri flipped the light switch on, causing a dimly lighting lamp to come to life. She had an unsteadiness in her eyes, but her drunken haze wiped that away.

Yukina made himself comfortable on the only non-squeaky bed in the joint.

Sayuri stood awkwardly at the door, gesturing towards the mini-fridge. “W-want anything to drink? I think there's some beer in here.”

“Um, sure, if you're having something.”

She flushed and grabbed two cans out of the fridge. It was only there for ice cubes. For whatever reason, one of her few regulars liked using  _ those _ instead of perfectly good lube. A chill went down her spine.

“Here,” she tossed one of the cans at Yukina, who caught it in surprise.

“Thanks,” he said and popped open the tab. 

Sayuri followed his actions and took a swig of the beer. As the alcohol burned down her throat, she prayed that she would forget about all of this in the morning.

Yukina asked the question again, “Are you okay?”

She plopped herself down on the bed, a comfortable meter away from Yukina. She babbled, “I told you already, everything’s fine.” Her eyes met the gaze of the camera.

He looked down into the can, “You say that, but your eyes are all red and your hands are shaking,” he paused to take a sip of beer, “I’m worried.”

_ Worried. _

“O-Oh…”

_ This is really bad…  _ Sayuri analyzed Yukina’s face while he drank.  _ I want to touch him.  _ Even the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down seemed impossibly perfect.  _ I want to feel how warm he is.  _ He took the can away from his lips and placed it on the table beside them.  _ To feel what he feels like.  _ Yukina noticed her staring and met her eyes, smiling. Her eyes widened and she looked away. She took the bun out of her hair to hide her blush from Yukina. She uttered, “You know we’re practically strangers, Yukina.”

“Oh. I guess you’re right,” Yukina touched her hand, “But it feels different, doesn’t it?”

She looked up at Yukina, eyes half-lidded and face red. She whispered unknowingly, “You’re hot.”

“…Sorry?”

She snapped back into conscious, straightening her back and looking away from the prince’s face. She stuttered, “Um, I-I mean, well… N-nothing.”

Yukina smirked and drank his beer. His words were soft and slurred, “I don't mind that you like me, Kisa-chan. It’s sorta cute how you stalk me at the bookstore.”

“I-I don't-! I just like to shop there, that's all!!” She fidgeted with the bottom of her sweater,  flustered. 

Yukina just smiled and whispered, “Sure you do.”

She crossed her legs and redid her bun. The beer can stood on the floor.

Yukina watched her fiddle with her hair tie, her eyes cast to the camera in the corner. She had nearly no experience with small talk, and it was beginning to show. She asked shyly, “So, what’s your-”

“FUCK! I’M CUMMING! OH FUCK YES BABY- AH!” Maki, in the other room, seemed to be enjoying herself.

Yukina bit his bottom lip, face red with shame.

Sayuri, on the other hand, was already out the door. After a few minutes of screaming, Sayuri came back into the room, cheery as always.

“So much for soundproof walls, huh?”

Sayuri punched his arm hard and continued, “What’s your first name?”

“Oh, um, sorry for being so rude…” He pulled a business card out of his pocket, handing it to Sayuri.

Her eyes lit up, “Th-thank you!” Her eyes scanned over the card, bright with curiosity.  _ Marimo Books, Yukina Kou, Postal Code: 199-1212, Tokyo, Otome ward, Honno street, Tel 003-301-027, Fax 003-301-028, E-mail kyukina@mari _ \-  *****

“Um, Kisa-chan?”

“Yes?” She lifted her head, smiling ear to ear.

“Are you okay? You’re kinda shaking…”

“Oh! Sorry… It’s just that… Yukina Kou has a very prince-like air about it.” Her eyes were glazed over and every thought of forgetting about this night had left her head. All her mind was set on was that earlier goal.  _ I want to touch him.  _ She tackled him into a hug, on impulse, of course. She yawned and pressed her head against his shoulder, “I like it.”

“…Kisa-chan? You awake?” Yukina poked at her head until she rolled over. “Jeez…” Yukina went to go turn the lights off, his legs ready to give out. He wasn’t that much of a drinker, so he would definitely be feeling it in the morning.

The room went dark the moment he flicked the switch, not even the slightest bit of fade. A hint of city light shown through the small windows at the top of the opposite wall. He went over to the bed, thinking that it would probably be better to stay here for the night. He wanted to skip a day at the university, anyways.

He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes drooping. While he took off his shoes, Sayuri turned in bed before murmuring, “Are you a forgetful drunk?”

He looked over his shoulder and replied, “Hm? I dunno, I don’t usually drink.”

“Eh? Really? You’re awfully composed to say something like that…”

“Am I?” He laid in the queen sized bed, brushing against Sayuri’s body.

“Well, don’t forget about me in the morning, ‘kay?” She yawned while latching onto Yukina’s arm.

“…’kay.”

 

* * *

 

 

_ Where am I? _

Yukina’s mind felt empty as he woke up to the mindless beeping of his alarm. He groaned and fumbled for the dresser, just like any other morning. He quickly hit the snooze by memory and rolled over in an attempt to get a couple more minutes of sleep.

“…mmm…Yukina…” A pair of slender arms hugged Yukina torso lovingly. A familiar female voice cooed at him, “Stay for a little while…”

Yukina’s eyes shot wide open, only to be met with the drowsy, not to mention adorable, face of Kisa-chan. He swallowed hard.  _ Oh shit. _

The girl buried her head into Yukina’s chest, giggling, “You make a lovely pillow.”

His body tensed up as he peered under the sheets.  _ Oh  _ **_shit_ ** _. _

He patted Kisa’s messy hair awkwardly and jumped the fuck out of bed in a desperate search for clothes. The leg of his pants stuck out from under the bed. He quickly tugged on the leg, revealing both his pants and… a box chock full of sex toys.

_ Where the fuck am I? _

He slipped on his pants and tried to remember anything that happened the night before. It all felt like a giant blur. He didn’t even remember drinking, but he was sure-as-hell hungover.

_ “Come on~ we’re going to a strip club~!” _

His brows furrowed.  _ That idiot. _ He got his wallet out, ashamedly pulling the sum of cash his friend had gave him the night before. He placed it on the dresser and scribbled “Sorry” with a spare pen on his business card. He looked into his now much more empty wallet as the lime green card caught his eye. 

“Hey~, Yukina-san… Come here…” Kisa outstretched her arms, mumbling, “Kisses…”

Yukina’s face went red, all of Kisa’s drowsy comments going straight to his junk. “Um, K-Kisa-chan.”

“What?”

“…Text me later,” he said while scribbling his phone number down.

She sat straight up, “O-OF COURSE I WILL!”

They made eye contact before Yukina ran out the room, this time in a search for a toilet to throw up in, only half the buttons on his shirt done up.

Kisa flopped back on the bed, head filled with Yukina and lips curled into a warm smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * translated directly from yukina’s official business card. im o b s e s s e d


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been busy sorrrryyyyryyryryry.....  
> i should be making a personal blog soon if i have the time  
> but yeah  
> this one's a little rapey and gory btw im soary

_“Oh, she's pretty, ain't she?”_

_Something was covering my mouth. I kept screaming and screaming until I realized I wasn't making any sound in the first place. My eyes were blindfolded as well._

_“I'd take that back if I were you.” A familiar voice echoed in the background. A familiar… Akio…?_

_I screamed louder, calling his name, begging for help. But… it didn't seem like he was fighting with whatever creep that had taken me._

_It was far too calm._

_“What do you mean? Is she ugly or somethin’? Is she clean?”_

_Akio chuckled, “He’s a guy, idiot.”_

_My heart dropped._

_I screamed until my voice stopped working, but all that came out was this muffled whimper._

_The other man showed surprise, “Eh? Really? I’m paying you top dollar and you bring me a sissy?”_

_“Don't you worry, he’s pretty an’ all, a good fuck too.”_

_“You're such a faggot.”_

_The cloth was removed from my eyes in an instant._

_A bearded man with a cigar half in his mouth held the lower of my face with a meaty, selfish hand. He looked in my eyes with a sneer. I didn’t notice I was crying until he scolded me about it._

_Something clicked. He placed the muzzle of a shotgun to my temple. “If you shout, I’ll shoot you dead and fuck your body until it’s just a pile of maggot-crawling flesh,” he smiled in a sickly manner, “Got it?”_

_I nodded furiously. He removed the gag from my mouth, strings of saliva coming with it. I didn't move, didn’t speak._

_He chuckled, “He looks scared out of his wits, huh?_

_I closed my eyes tight and spoke softly, “Please don’t call me tha-”_

_It hurt. He punched me. Hard._

_“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want.”_

_Blood dripped out of my nose. That would definitely leave a bruise. I whispered, too scared to speak any louder than I did before, “…Okay…”_

_Akio’s rough voice echoed in the large, empty room. That voice that I once found comforting, the only one who made me feel special…_

_“I had to stay with this dumbass for two months. Just take him in and do whatever the hell you want to. Pay me and I’ll have someone better by next month.”_

_The bearded man shooed him off, “Alright, alright. I’ll transfer it to your account later. May your good looks do you justice this time.” He focused his attention on me now, a certain lusty trance in his eyes. He took the cigar out of his mouth and pressed the tip on my thigh. It burned through the fabric of my jeans in an instant, scalding the clean skin underneath._

_I bit my lip, trying not to let out a whimper, trying not to sound weak._

_His lips curled into a sickening grin._

_“Now, let’s have some fun, ‘Shouta.’”_

 

* * *

 

Sayuri woke up covered in sweat. _It was just a dream, it was just a dream._ She knew it wasn’t _just_ a dream. It happened. It was real. It was all in the flesh.

The spot next to her was empty. It all smelled like him, even though she was never close enough to distinctly smell him. But now she was. Yukina was all around her, whether it be the scent, the business card, or… or the stack of money he left behind.

She moved into Yukina’s spot to investigate. The comforters were left warm, even though he must have left hours ago. She lifted the covers over her bare legs and placed all he left behind on her lap. A significantly large sum of money, his business card, and- wasn’t that her’s? The lime green Marimo had her old name on it anyways… Did she leave it at the shop? If so, he must have picked it up for her, right? She flipped the card in her hands, flustered.

_He wanted to give me this._

She smiled and slid the card into her bra so she wouldn’t forget it.

Now, what to do with this money… There had to be at least a ten thousand yen here. Did he think that we… Oh no. She studied the one-word note written on the back of Yukina’s business card. _Sorry_ followed by _080-294-6792_ . Sayuri patted around her bed, looking for her phone. _Must’ve left it in my bedroom…_

Someone knocked on the door in a pattern. “Can I come in?” Ani called from outside, clearly worried.

“Yeah.”

Ani opened the door quietly, reeking of cigarettes. “You’re finally awake. It’s 2, you know. Get up.”

Sayuri, shifted out of the covers, “You’re so rude! And get out, you smell like shit.”

“Jeez…,” Ani leaned on the doorframe, “I bear gifts.” She held a bottle of Advil. “Was that guy last night Yukina? He looked cute sleeping.”

“What the hell! Did you watch us sleep or something?!” Sayuri chucked the non-Yukina-scented pillow at the apparent stalker.

“Heh, maybe. I just happened to check on you,” She raised one of the pills and aimed, “Say ‘ah.’”

Sayuri gave the girl the stink eye before complying, “Ah-” The Advil went straight into her eye. “OW! Would you piss off already-”

“Kisa.” The boss seemed to appear out of nowhere. Both girls stiffened up at the sound of his voice. “Meet me in my office. Now.”


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finals are over and i can write again. regular updates should be expected. this is shortcghvjbkn

“Meet me in my office. Now.”

The man’s eyes were as cold and judgemental as always. Sayuri never learned his real name, no one had. He was just “the boss.”

Sayuri shifted the stack of gifts left by her wandering prince to the other side of the bed and got up. Her legs felt extremely unstable with a hangover, but she managed to bow and respond. “Yes, sir.”

They were silent as they walked to the office, the environment radiating with tension. Sayuri followed the boss as if she were a lost puppy. The parlor doors held their familiar creak, leading to the office.

His desk was cluttered with stacks of paperwork and ashtrays. Smoke rose from half burnt cigar in one, filling the room with tobacco smoke. Sayuri coughed at the pungent smell. She silently wished she had put pants on. He pointed at the chair propped before the desk.

“Sit,” he demanded, not asked. He took his seat behind the desk, radiating authority.

Sayuri obeyed swiftly, seating herself on the chair, her back straightened directly up.

The boss retrieved the burning cigar from the ashtray, blowing puffs of smoke in her face. He looked at Sayuri with scrutiny, judging her every movement. Sayuri tried her best not to cough as he smoked. This place made her hate that scent.

“What the hell is up with that guy from yesterday?” he stated bluntly, his eyes cold.

Sayuri shifted in her seat, clearly uneasy at his comment. “What guy-”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

Sayuri slumped in her seat, “He’s… a friend of mine. That’s all.”

He leaned forward, removing the cigar from his lips, “Okay, so we're going to play this game, huh?” Sayuri stayed silent, awaiting whatever punishment was coming her way. “I want you to leave 80% on the bed. And, if I see him around here again… you’ll be staying with me. Okay?”

Sayuri nodded furiously, avoiding eye contact with the man. His silence allowed her to make her leave, scurrying back down the hallways with fear in her step.

She made her way to the bedroom she last slept in. Ani was sitting on the bed, counting the bills aloud. She glanced up to acknowledge Sayuri, before going back to counting.

“12,000 yen,” Ani said with jealousy, “I guess he likes you, huh? How much do you need to give up?”

“80%.”

“80- What!? That’s ridiculous! Who does he think he-” She stopped abruptly, eyeing the camera. “T-That’s 9600, right?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sayuri’s voice sounded like a deflating balloon. All of this money business reminded her of where she was, who she was. Maybe she only liked Yukina because the opportunity he brought. That he would actually care, maybe even do something if she told him why she was here. So she thought.

Ani split the stack of cash at what looked to be 80% and handed both parts to Sayuri with a pitiful smile. “Still, 2400 is okay pay… for here, I mean…”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m giving it back to him. I don’t deserve it, anyways.”

Ani was on the cusp of saying “of course you deserve it” but realized those weren’t the right words to say now. They never seemed to be. Instead, she scratched the back of her neck and looked away.

Sayuri turned the heel and walked back to their bosses office, emotionless in her expression.

* * *

                                                                                 Kisa-chan

_Hi Yukina-san! It’s Kisa. Can we meet up sometime if you’re_

_free?_

_I just realized that this could be your home phone. (´･_･`)_

_I’m_ _sorry that I’m stupid. Please text me back._

                                                                                    ah, don’t worry, this is my cell. we can go to the maid

                                                                                    cafe down the block from my store, at like  20:00 . i get

                                                                                    off my shift then.

_AH! OkAy I’ll see you then!! (●⌒ｖ⌒●)_


	8. 8

Sayuri waited outside the cafe wondering if all of this was a joke. It was 20.00 now, and for whatever reason, she could not comprehend that Yukina would be the slightest bit late. Not that she wasn't fully willing to stay out the whole night. She did promise to be back in two hours for work, even though she despised it.

 

20.01. 

20.02. She took a seat inside, a table for two.

20.03. She ordered a cup of peach tea.

20.04.

20.05. She took out Yukina’s business card and went over every detail again.

20.06. She checked her phone obsessively, too nervous to text first.

20.07. The door of the cafe opened. Yukina looked over one of the waitress's shoulder and flashed a dashing smile in Sayuri’s way. Noticing the prince, she sat straight up and waved shyly, already regretting coming to the cafe.

He came over to the table and sat across from her. “Kisa-chan! How are you?”

She was blinded by his sparkly appearance.  _ God, he’s handsome. _ “O-ok…” She shifted her legs and quickly slid the card into her pocket, hoping he didn’t notice it on the table.

 

A waitress came over and gave Sayuri her tea, along with a tiny pitcher of milk. Yukina asked for a coffee, and the maid-uniform-clad waitress went off after a bow of acknowledgment.

Yukina scratched the back of his neck, “Sorry for inviting you to such a super obscure place, the pastries are really good.”

Sayuri fished the tea bag out of her cup. It felt terribly awkward, and why wouldn’t it? They were just two strangers sitting across from each other in a maid cafe. That should be it, and that was it.

 

He finally started on that mindless babble of his, which was to be expected of his “type,” “There’s a lot of things I want to talk to you about! So, did you like the magazine release? I thought it was one of the better ones that came out this year.”

She took her lips off the cup. She was antisocial, to begin with, and being around people like  _ him _ just made it a bit harder to get invested in the conversation. “So you read shojo manga?”

“Of course! I’ve always liked fluffy, sparkly, love stuff,” he added, “But I guess someone like you would have no trouble with shojo manga.”

_ Are you mocking me? _

“Sorry?” He tilted his head.

_ Crap, said that out loud. _

 

He ignored whatever remark he made and continued, “May I ask how old you are? I mean, I figure we’re around the same age. Oh, I’m twenty-one and still going to university.”

_ This guy is  _ way _ too young. _

“I’m thirty.”

“Huh?”

“I’m thirty years old.” I took out my driver’s license as proof and placed it before him.

He snatched it off the table, looking it over and exclaiming, “What?! No way! Really?! Hang on, isn’t there a limit to how much younger you can look!”

_ Well, excuse me for being older. _

Yukina seemed to escape his realm of being in utter shock just to make some prince-like statement: “But you know, being cute or looking younger is like a gift you’re born with.”

_ Yeah, this guy is definitely weird. _

 

A waitress came over and gave Yukina his coffee, interrupting with a “here you go,” followed by Yukina thanking her.

_ Get it over with.  _ Sayuri took the significantly smaller stack of cash out of her bag and pushed it in Yukina’s way. “Listen,” she sighed, “My boss took his share, you should take the rest of it back.”

Yukina looked around at the other tables like it was a drug deal. He responded, anxiously, “A-are you sure? I mean, it's not my money, my friend forced it on me as a bribe… That sounds weird, he wanted me to go this party, and-- well I didn’t know we were going to a place like  _ that _ \-- but-”

 

“I don't want it. It's not like we did anything, anyways.”

 

Now he looked really confused. “...We didn’t?”

She raised an eyebrow and sipped her tea, “Did you think otherwise?”

Yukina blushed and shifted uncomfortably. “W-well, I usually don't drink, s-so I didn't remember much, and, um… I j-j-just assumed..,” he stuttered as if this was the first time he had held a conversation with a girl. Sayuri, as well as anyone who has ever spoken to the man, knew otherwise.

She always saw the charming, handsome prince who sold shojo manga at a bookstore, but this scared, weak side of the guy was something special. Something only she could see. She liked that, how perverse of her.

Sayuri giggled, “It’s okay, I get it. Whatever,” she checked the time on her phone, “Is that it? I have to be back by 10.”

“Oh! Wait, I wanted to get your opinion on something, fan-to-fan,” he started taking something out of his bag.

“…Uhuh”

 

“I want to throw a fair! If I pull an all-nighter to make the display, I can get it set up by tomorrow.” He opened a sketchbook on the table and started drawing something.

“Um, but don’t you have to talk to the people who actually make the books to actually do that?”

“I’m sure they’d have no problem with some free advertising. I always wanted to do something like this anyway. Oh, I’m an art student, so I’m good at this kind of thing.”

_ Cocky. _

His pencil raced its way across the page making lines that actually started to look like something. Sayuri only wished she could do something like that. But then again, she only wished to have a conversation with Yukina, yet got so much more than that.  _ Maybe my drawings aren’t so bad after all. _

 

“I read the latest magazine first thing in the morning when it came out, and it was really good. Makes me want to do this even more.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, but why are you doing all this?”

He gave that classic, salesman smile, “Well, because you might like it, that’s why.”

She lifted her head and gasped. _Oh no, this is bad._ She felt her face go hot and started playing with her hair. _I like this guy. I really, really like this g- His face. I like his face._ _Come on, I’ve got to open my eyes! Why do I always allow myself cling to these kinds of false hopes?_

Yukina seemed at peace scribbling away, while Sayuri felt like her heart was about to explode.

_ I really love his face too much… That’s why these things never work out for me. I fall for fickle guys like this. _

 

Soft tapping on the window. Yukina looked up from his new project, groaning, “Ugh, it’s raining! This sucks!”

He kept talking, but Sayuri couldn’t focus on anything. She just kept going over the picture she had of Yukina in her mind, trying to prove that it was false; out-of-focus, blurred. If only she could convince herself-

 

“Kisa-chan?”

 

_ I know it’ll be just another fleeting thing… _

“Are you okay? Your face is all red.”

Sayuri looked up, feverish, “S-Sorry, what?”

 

_ I don’t think… that I’ve ever really been in love with anyone before. _

He’s looking at me weird.

T _ hat’s why I always end up thinking about this. _

He’s… he’s getting close to me.

 

_ What it would feel like… _

 

He’s…

 

_ to really love someone? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw you want to remake a scene from sekaii but then end up copying the whole thing word for word


	9. 9

Sayuri twisted the shower handle.

_I can’t concentrate._

Sayuri slapped herself. _Pull yourself together!!! This’ll screw up my… work at this rate!_ She wrung her hair in hands, excess water falling with a satisfying trickle. She grabbed a ratty towel from a hanger, swiftly wrapping herself in warmth.

She stepped out of the shower stall, praying she wouldn’t slip and crack her head. The shower always leaked. She looked in the mirror. Stared in the mirror. The steam caused the mirror to fog, the basic outline of her body was all she could discern.

 _And I know the reason._ The phone dinged, _New text_. She hesitated before looking at the message, recalling that Yukina had her phone number.

 _It’s because…_ A picture came up, showing the sparkling display that Yukina had _promised_ to make. It was drowned in pink roses and glitter and little cartoon animals. The little shelves were packed with copies of shojo manga. It had the aura of a wedding cake …What is this?

Another text came in. _please come by to look at it. I’ll be waiting for you._

Her face went red and she turned off her phone, grabbing the community hair dryer from under the sink. _Has he gone crazy? I can’t go to this thing!_ She plugged in the hair dryer with a sigh. _I mean… ever since_ that _happened… I haven’t been able to think about anything else._

\---

_Sayuri pulled out of the sudden, and frankly uncalled for kiss, “H-huh? What? I mean… that’s not funny._

_Yukina’s long blond bangs covered his eyes, “Kisa-chan, I…”_

_She stood up, legs wobbly from excitement. Avoiding eye contact, she lied through her teeth, “Oh, this is bad! I’ve gotta go to work now, so…” She swiftly made her way to the door, heart pounding, “See you.”_

_Yukina called for her, yet didn’t run after her. He sat back down and drank the entire coffee cup in one gulp, grabbed his things, and left, leaving a bill on the table._

\---

“What was that kiss, anyway?” Sayuri mumbled to herself. She turned off the hairdryer, deciding to let the air dry it instead. It’s not like the guy she was planning on meeting with cared about appearances anyway. _Kiss…_ Her heart pounded just from thinking about it. _Damn it! Why didn’t I just ask him?_

Hesitantly, she picked up her phone again and began to type a reply. Her nails tapped on the digital keyboard, “Thank you for your text _._ ” She paused. _That’s right… Yukina’s my dream guy._ More tapping, “I’d certainly…” _My usual self would definitely do just that. But back then, for some reason, I couldn’t behave the way I usually do._

I’d certainly… **_whatever._** The text was deleted with the tap of a finger, and the phone with the tap of the thumb.

 _But that’s all for the best._ She dropped her towel and began to get dressed. Nothing particularly slutty, once again, this guy didn't care how she looked. _I bet he’s never even thought about being with…_ she glanced down at her body for the first time in days, _someone like me before. So I didn’t embarrass myself by letting my expectations run wild._

She threw a pink, pilled sweater over herself, not bothering with undergarments. _Plus, if you look at the way he acts around the other girls, it’s clear that there’s no way he was serious. That’s right! No matter how I look at it, it’s obvious he was just playing._ Bleached, baggy overalls loosely covered her too-skinny legs. _But it’s not like I didn’t already know that._

She brushed her hair without the intention of making it look any better. _Yeah, I know this._ Grabbing her phone, she stole one last glance in the mirror.

_I don’t need to agonize over every little thing._

 

Sayuri opened the door to the bedroom. The chattering emitting from the room stopped immediately. Maki and Sakura were out, but… Ani just stared at her. Chelsea looked at the ground.

“Wh-What?” She questioned, tilting her head with a smile.

The girls glanced at each other silently. Finally, Chelsea spoke, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” Sayuri walked into the room, heading towards her bed.

Chelsea glanced at her, took a sip of Ani’s beer, and left. That was the most Sayuri had seen of her in the past week. That girl had quite a way of taking hints. Or maybe she just had to give “rent.” Sayuri couldn’t tell anymore.

“Um…” Ani shifted her legs, “So how’d things go with him…?” She drawled out the words like she said something wrong.

Sayuri flicked her eyes back at Ani, “Well.” A knit scarf laid on her pillow. The one Ani had bought her for her birthday.

Ani laughed to fill the silence, bringing the bottle back to her lips, “Oh, good, good.”

“I have to meet up with someone tonight. Do you want to say something?”

Ani kept giggling, drinking, giggling.

Sayuri wrapped the scarf around her neck, tight. Something was burning in the ashtray. She grimaced, “Are you high-”

“So, did anything happen? Tell me.” Ani had spilled beer on the floor.

Sayuri looked at the stain on the wall and nonchalantly responded, “He kissed me.”

“WHAT-”

Sayuri shut the door behind her after slipping into her shoes. Looking down the bare hallway, she rubbed her temples. _I need to get out of here._ Speed walking. Chelsea was on her knees in the main room, giving head to the boss. _Rent._

It wasn’t very busy on weekdays, the place was completely empty, not including the one girl from the other night smoking on the stage. They smiled at each other. Meth teeth. Sayuri walked a little faster.

_I need to get out of here._

* * *

 

                                                  Kisa-chan

_AH! OkAy I’ll see you then!! (●⌒ｖ⌒●)_

                                                               image.jpg

                                                               please come by to look at it. I’ll be waiting for you.

_Don’t come back to Youkubou_

* * *

 

A tall, dark figure stood on the balcony. Billows of smoke hung above him. He respected that Sayuri hated the way cigarettes smelled.

That was rare.

She was just wearing the pink sweater now. She gazed blankly out the glass sliding doors. Watching him smoke, watching him cry. Was he really crying? Again?

They’ve known each other for ten years.

 _Ten years_ lingered over her head. How could she really have been there for ten years? She still felt twenty. _But you know, being cute or looking younger is like a gift you’re born with!_

_Shut up, Yukina Kou._

Saga-san, her first customer, her first regular, used the butt of his sixth cig to light the seventh. His eyes were still sad. They were always sad.

The first time they had sex, he cried the whole way through it. Crying about some “Ritsu.” He was seventeen. It scared the _shit_ out of her. It got better over time, though. They were each other’s coping mechanisms. He talked about his “Ritsu,” some guy who dumped him in high school. It was Yukina for her in the past five years.

He had so many secrets. She didn’t even want to start thinking about them.

The sliding door opened. Saga tossed an empty cigarette carton in the waste bin. He looked just about as distressed as always.

“Hey,” Sayuri greeted.

He brushed his fingers through his hair, sighing, “This is the last time.”

She sat up suddenly, “Huh? Really?”

“I think I found him, Ritsu,” he looks a bit happier, “He's different, though.”

Sayuri’s eyes widened, “Oh! That’s good! Congrats!”

“He hates me.”

_Huh?_

She brushed her hair behind her ear, “What? I’m sure that’s not the case…”

“I asked him about high school and he… He said that he hates me. He said that he’s never falling in love with me again,” he paused, slipping into a jacket, “I think I broke him, back then. He isn’t the same.”

“O-Oh…” Sayuri thought about what to say. There wasn’t anything there.

“This felt really wrong. I’m sorry.” He loosely hung a scarf around his neck, grabbed his wallet.

“Saga-san?”

She began to get out of the bed, getting her clothing, “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

He paused, looking at the door, “I’ll do my best.” He silently opened his wallet, pulling out a handful of bills. He didn’t count.

Sayuri pulled on her overalls, feeling the tension in the air. It shouldn’t feel like this. _This is the last time._ Sighing, she slipped her arms through the straps. He handed her the money, not looking at her. She whispered a “thank you” a slipped the bills into her pocket, knowing well that it was too much. He always paid her too much.

She grabbed her scarf and phone, beginning to leave. Saga took her hand, held it weakly. It wasn’t personal.

He paid for the room and they took to the sidewalk, letting go of each other’s hands. They were going opposite ways, so they just stopped in front of the hotel, staring into the street. This area was usually bustling at this time of night. It was quiet tonight, though. Weeknights are never busy.

“Sayuri?”

She looked towards the man, stoic as he was. He brought her into his arms suddenly, kissing her forehead. “Get out of there,” he whispered, repeating, “Get out of there.”

Sayuri brought her head to lean on the man’s shoulder, letting his smoky breath utter those words. And she began to cry, a sudden sickness forming in her stomach. She screamed into the burning warmth of his jacket, _I can’t take it, I can’t take it._

Her mind lurched with all that panic, and he just held her closer and closer. But not because he was leaving. Not because of his words. Over Saga’s shoulder, Yukina had just walked down the street with a guy. She scratched at his back. _They looked so natural together._

“It’s gonna get better. I promise.”

Saga held her as she broke and melted under the streetlight, knowing that this was the last time. And that it would be the last time; eternally.


	10. 10

_There are deep, deep lashes. They sting my back, burning my spine. When the bearded man sleeps, I can bring my hands to touch them, half-scabbed, half-infected. I don't think they'll ever heal._

 

 _Right now, the bearded man’s palms press into them as he clutches my sides. He grunts heavily and_ it _splatters onto my back. I vomit in my mouth._

_“You're fucking disgusting,” he spits and shoves me off to the side, my weak body hitting the edges of the dog cage. It didn’t hurt that much anymore._

_The sound of his heavy boots padding away, the zipper of his pants, the rustle of his clothing. The door shuts and my legs give out instantaneously. The vomit makes its way past my lips, onto the cement floor. My whole body shakes, and the tears come up again. I let them run down my cheeks._

_I realized I would spend the rest of my life in here six days ago. It doesn’t matter, though._

_I don’t matter anymore._

 

_“Excuse me.” A light voice comes to my attention._

_The door is open again, a young brunette standing in its frame. She holds a McDonald’s bag tightly in a fist. I don’t remember last time I ate._

_“I brought you something to eat. You haven’t had anything, right?”_

_I nod, dazed._ She’s so young…

_“Oh, I’m Watanabe- er- um- Ani. Just call me Ani, it’s less confusing. My sister’s here too.” She removed a hamburger and a can of Coke. “I’m sorry this isn’t much, I can’t really afford anything.”_

_She passes the food to me. I flinch at the slightest touch of her hand. I try not to, but I do. Nothing feels right anymore. She smiles with a sigh, “I know how it is. Give it a week or two, and you can sleep in the spare bed next to mine. I’ll help you.” Her eyes dull a bit._

_She moves like a ghost, steps tracing their way across the floor. She seems otherworldly. She doesn’t belong here._

 

_And then I realize she’s looking at me, and that I’m naked, and that there’s nothing to cover me up with-_

_“You’re not disgusting, don’t think that. Don’t say things like that about yourself.” She comes closer, sitting down beside me. She looks at my back, not flinching or surprised._

_“I’m sorry,” I whisper without thinking, “You don’t need to pretend that it’s nothing-”_

_“It_ is _nothing,” Ani moves behind me, “There’s so much worse.” She produces a container of medicinal cream from the bag, opening it and placing it on my left._

 

_I don’t think I can eat._

 

_Her voice is soothing, “Don’t try to leave here, okay?” She dips to fingertips into the jar, “Even if the opportunity’s there, don’t take it.” There’s a waver in her voice as if she were about to cry. It was hard to think that someone this empty, this broken, could ever bring themselves to show emotion. Not like she did. Or, maybe she isn’t empty. Maybe she’s just scared._

 

_“He shot Hitomi eight times in the chest when she tried to leave. She was dead after the first two, but he kept...”_

_The cream meets my skin._

 

_“I was fourteen.”_

 

_There are deep, deep lashes. They sting my back, burning my spine. When the bearded man sleeps, I can bring my hands to touch them, half-scabbed, half-infected._

_Right now, the ghost runs her fingertips along them and whispers the soft words of her story._

 

_I don’t think we’ll ever heal._


	11. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this doesn't make any sense but oh well  
> cw: a rapey vibe (maybe that's just the way i look at it, though)

“...ri…”

“...Yuri.”

_ Snap. _

“Sa-yu-RI!”

Chelsea slapped her shoulder, met with a swift response.

Sayuri, the girl in question, spins around, barking, “WHAT!?”

The coke-head covered her face with her hand, hiding a grin behind lime nails, “Sorry, sorry! You were just spaced out-!” She paused, tilting her head to the side. “Yuri-chan, are you okay…?”

Her slender hand swiped across her tearing eyes, “I’m fine.” Beer in hand, she leaves the mirrored room. Everything felt so hot, even though she was wearing barely anything.

“Don’t drink so much, it’s not good for you!” Chelsea called after her as she storms off.

Every other Friday was like this.  _ Yokubou _ went full out “brothel,” like they had no shame in the matter. No one really would care that Sayuri just ruined her makeup by crying. Tonight, there was no need to look pretty. No one cares how you look when you charge half-price for equally cheap sex. It was convenient. And it  _ sucked _ .

Something had been off with Sayuri. Unmistakeably. There’s been so much more of the urge to drink, hangovers, all the bad things. The little pleasures that Sayuri had been gripping onto for the past ten years began to slip through her fingers, melting with the heat of  _ everything _ . Reading abundant amounts of shoujo manga, stealing chocolate from Ani-chan,  watching stalking Yukina at Marimo: it all had no value to her anymore. It was like she came a full circle, and she was just another college student who needed to learn her place again.

 

It sucked. It  _ always  _ sucked.

 

But she ignores that basic fact, finished her beer, and walked into the main room.

Everything felt heavier, foggier. The stale air had been replaced with straight cheap perfume and burning plastic. The flashing lights felt like an acid trip gone wrong. Musty couches now occupied the space, as well as far too many horny men. Sick.

In her vision came a familiar face. The man that whistled at her the night Yukina came.  _ Drunk pig. _ She pretends to smile and touches the back of her neck. He was just drinking hard liquor, looking at nothing in particular. Eye contact is made, and his crusty-ass face seems a bit more pleased. Like he was waiting for her.

That, she thought, was the scariest part. That some man with no name would  _ wait _ for her, to see how uncomfortable she would get when he’d touch her, and call her all the wrong words. That  _ he _ got enough pleasure out of that to sit and wait for the  _ possibility _ -

Now he was hovering over her. He asks how she is, but she doesn’t respond accurately. He doesn’t notice. He just squeezes her wrist and brings her a couch that’s seen too many years.

He makes himself comfortable and takes few thousand yen out of his pocket. “Here,” he offers it in Sayuri’s direction, coldly. But all she can see is that camera in the corner and all the eyes on her. And all she can think about is Yukina… and how natural he looked with that guy.

The guy gives the money a shake,  _ hurry up. _ She tries to smile and takes it from him, slipping it in her lacy bra with a shaky “thank you.” She sits beside him and rests her hand on his cheek, singsonging, “What can I do for ya?”

His eyes are cold. “None of that. Just get on your knees.”

 

When she met with people like  _ him _ , it felt like that flame in her gut, that fighting source, had been blown out. How weak was she to let men ruin her with mere words? How afraid?

It was times like these that made her want to see Yukina. Wanted to pretend that she didn’t see him with some replacement- no, to see him happy with someone other than her. It wasn’t mere jealousy, it was fear, fear that he didn’t care about her, that she was just one of his fans, a stalker.

Would he try to save “just another girl,” though? Was this just normal for him? Or was this all in her head? Was she just trying to make up emotions to fill up the emptiness in her gut, now that the flame was out? Empty, false emotions.

 

Has she ever been in love?

 

But now she had to focus, she had to focus on the pig before her. Even if she was afraid, she  _ had  _ to make him happy (or whatever “happy” was for him). She  _ had  _ to pay “rent,” she  _ had  _ to pay for HRT, she  _ had  _ to pay with her body, pay with her life.

She knows that he notices the fear and feeds off of it. When he says, “Don’t look at me that way, bitch,” she  _ knows _ . But she just shoves it down further, back into her stomach, and forces a different expression, an inaccurate one.

There’s something about the man’s cold eyes that makes her believe she’s nothing. 

It sucks so fucking bad. It sucks more than having to say goodbye to Saga. It sucks more than seeing the only person you care about with a person they care more about than you.

Focus.

This act that she was performing, the mask that she wore tonight, didn’t feel sexual. In fact, it felt the exact opposite. When the man reaches down and pulls her hair, it isn’t needy, but it isn’t mean either. It’s plain uncomfortable. And when she touches the man’s thigh, it’s less of a “grab” and more of “push.” It was as if it’s some two-sided rape, where neither party wants what’s “natural” for them. That’s how it usually goes, though.

She ponders Yukina and that man she saw with him in the hotel district, and that kiss at the cafe, and how he thought they slept together, and that  _ disgust  _ on his face when he saw her body... Every time she saw that guy, it felt like a puzzle piece appeared, one that didn’t connect to any others. Nothing adds up with him.

_ Focus. _

There’s a mirror above the sofa. It reflects the lights that strobe around the room, flashes of color. And if she looks at just the right angle, she can see herself. It doesn’t look like her, though. It looks like some drunken washed-up hooker with no name and no desires, and Sayuri  _ knew _ that wasn’t her.

Then who was she?

To everyone here, she was just another sad story and a bad sex toy, not much else. To Ani-chan, a friend. To Maki-chan… a bit more than that (not that she would like to partake in it). From what she could tell, Sakura and Chelsea didn’t have any feelings towards her at all. To Yukina… to Yukina… she didn’t really know.

But when she looked back up at the mirror, she feels like she does know. She does know what that odd relationship is, and she knows who she is: a fighter.

There, in the reflection of the mirror above them, stood Yukina Kou, looking sick with a tonic and gin. That flame again, a hotter one now, sparked. That man was like tinder, and god, that fire would be burning forever.


	12. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hewwo.
> 
> over the next few days i will be making revisions and edits to previous chapters (mostly grammatical fixes, technicalities, style, etc. no real plot changes). stay tuned (edit: nevermind i have no time)  
> also i'm sorry for not uploading anything in forever. again. sigh,,,
> 
> i'm not sure if this chapter is legible or not, so give me feedback,,,, its more like a stream of conscience..? idk. been reading too much atwood lately.
> 
> enjoy.

_ It’s extremely sickening _ , Yukina thinks,  _ to see Kisa-chan in such a state. _ It was like watching something cringy just to make you cringe- no, worse than that. It was like watching the things you only find on the dark web with the full intention of being scarred by it. These images would be stuck in Yukina’s mind for the rest of his life.

They make eye contact through the dingy mirror, and, god, she looks so scared.

So bare.

 

Everything’s passing by freely, whiskey burning time. She takes his hand and says, “This won’t make any sense, but I need you to trust me. Give me your coat, we’re going outside.”

“Huh-?” She pushes him out into the cold, abruptly. The brothel is underground, an abandoned love hotel atop it. A staircase leads to street level, but it seems so distant from this place. Time is altered here, a liminal space. People are always coming and going from  _ Yokubou _ , but Kisa is tied down. It didn’t make any sense to him, but it felt wrong in there. It must be so bleak for that to be your restriction: past, present, future. It ate away at her, Yukina could tell.

 

Snap into reality, liquor. Kisa-chan began making these dramatically harsh and expressive hand motions, yelling things that didn’t make sense. “YUKINA! I need you to listen  _ VERY  _ closely to me!” She flips him off.

Yukina, rather confused about this situation, shuddered.

“There is a CAMERA above me, in the LEFT corner!” As soon as his eyes wander, she screamed again, her voice cracking, “DON’T LOOK AT IT, DUMBASS!” His eyes snap back to Kisa’s face. He never noticed it before, but her eyes are quite alluring. It’s a wonder what tears and screaming brings out in people. Radiant, she’s shining.

“I need you to get really  _ FUCKING  _ pissed off, alright! I need you to FUCKING HIT  _ ME _ !! That camera doesn’t record ANY audio, so you NEED to do something drastic,  _ ALRIGHT _ _?!_ ” She’s panting, and she looks like she’s on the verge of vomiting. Her brow is drenched in sweat and the red of her cheeks illuminate. He doesn’t want to think it, but it’s kind of seductive, seeing her get so riled up. Bad thought. “GET PISSED OR WE’LL  _ BOTH  _ FUCKING DIE, YUKINA!!”

_ Pissed…? _ “Wh-WhaT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?! YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE!! NONE OF THIS MAKES ANY SENSE, KI-SA-CHA-N!!” He was shaken by the sound of his own voice, he hadn’t yelled like that in so long.

“Yukina, listen,” her voice gets very quiet suddenly, like she’s petrified. She looks at where she said the camera ought to be, and begins to shake. “You’re mad, okay? And I need you to slap me, and I need you to push me up against the wall, and… uh, t-t-touch my ass? Or some shit. Act like you’re gonna rape me. Please.” Her words aren’t matching up with her face, her actions. She’s crying. She’s bawling.

“K-Kisa-chan…”

She wiped the tears from her eyes, shouting, “YOU’RE MAD, YUKINA!”

“I’m-I’M MAD!!” He goes in to slap her but doesn’t hit her harshly, barely brushing the skin of her cheek, feeling the heat of her tears.

_ I’m in love with her. _ She snaps her head in the opposite direction with such a dramatic flair that it would be comedic in any other context. Not here, though. Because here, here she was crying, and the little gasps plucked at Yukina’s heartstrings. He felt something that he never felt before with that skin contact. He felt true fear, not the one in the movies. He became that pain in the eyes of a caged animal, that throbbing. A life thrown away because of one flaw. Wrong place, wrong time. Yukina understands Sayuri now. He knows that emotion. He can feel it, flowing through her skin. Pulsating.

 

Whoever they were posing for behind that camera, whatever act they were putting on, it had to be rather convincing. It was real, raw sentiment. When he pushes Kisa against the wall, he doesn’t “grab her ass or some shit.” That would be noticeably fictitious. He looks her in the eyes and thumbs at her waist. He leans himself into the crook of her neck and speaks softly, “I understand, Kisa-chan. I understand this. I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.”

He hears her gasp in one ear, feels the sudden rise of her chest against his, smells the source of her perfume, on her neck and her long, smooth hair. He wants to kiss her, wants to be back in that cafe, wants to not have this knowledge. But he is all too present, and he knows this is where he belongs. In the moment.

“Yukina....” Kisa sniffles, touching his back, “Later, we can… Drag me up the stairs. I can’t stand the thought of  _ him  _ watching us anymore. Please.” Yukina takes her wrist in his hand and does just that, leading her up the staircase. It winds around once, and there’s no security guard at the top. In fact, the people that rome the streets this Friday night seem to avoid the staircase, refusing to look at that fluorescent sign reading “Yokubou.”

 

Yukina’s cheeks gain a pink hue as he lets Kisa’s wrist go. He scratches the back of his neck, stammering, “I-I guess we made quite the scene, huh?”

“No,” her eyes face the ground, “They always avoid it. They know it’s bad news. They know that this place is evil.” They begin to walk down the sidewalk at a slow pace. Kisa is still panting, looking ill. Her hand shakily touches his palm, and she looks up at him, “Don’t you see it too?”

His heart stops for a moment. Her eyes are all puffy from crying and her mascara is running but… she looks intensely beautiful, she is intensely strong.

There is a small alleyway coming up, between some sex shop and the movie theater he went to the other night. He pulls them into it, holding her close to him. Kisa doesn’t say anything, just leans on his chest and breathes deeply. Calm.

A minute passes before she begins to speak. “I-I think Ani-chan was right.” Kisa said, these different tears forming in her eyes, “I think you are the one. You’re the one who can save us. You’re special, Yukina.” Kisa leans into his neck, kisses it, and those tears meet his collarbone. They pierce through his skin and go straight into his bloodstream, coursing through his body.

 

Yukina stares into the gaps of the brick wall behind Kisa, into the mortar. Little holes that silverfish cross through, tunnels. The chalky maroon, the dense gray. When Yukina was young, he thought he had a destiny, that some overruling being had a plan for him. And he waited all his life for a sign, that sign to take action. Years had passed, but that hope remained, that he would become something special to someone, somewhere. A savior. Now that the sign had come, he had no idea what to do with it, whatsoever. He was so immature, so far from understanding  _ anything  _ in this vast world; he knew this now. Unprepared, not  _ savior _ material. But for now, Yukina will embrace his omen and ponder those tunnels in stone paste.


	13. 13

Koizumi Sakura wears a black bra her mother bought on clearance three years ago. The fabric near the clasps are thinning, there is a hole. She lays in bed on her side, facing the wall with the door. She runs her fingers along her ribs, protruding out from her thin torso. Her skin is chilling, comforting. She likes her skin. She likes how her ribs stick out of it. She likes little Xanax pills. She likes her thigh gap. She likes the vibration of the bass that you can feel from meters away.

 

She likes it here, in the first room. It’s private.

 

The man she slept with pushes the small of her back. “You’re pretty, Sakura-chan,” he says, giving an awful massage.

She closes her eyes and moves her arm. She likes being complimented. It makes her feel special. Although she is pleased, her voice is stern, “Please don’t call me that.” She touches the knuckles of her hand.

“I’m sorry,” The man leans forward to kiss the back of her head, “What would you like me to call you, then?”

Sakura likes this job. She likes how nice the men are to her. She doesn’t understand why the other girls don’t like it here. Aren’t the men nice to them too? She makes enough money to afford filling food and pleasant selling soap, and the bedrooms are warm. It was much better than home, she thought. Much better.

She smiles and speaks softly, “I apologize. I can be whoever you’d like.”

  
  


Yukina opens the door for Kisa, and the hot air encapsulates them. He felt awfully cold, it probably wasn’t a good idea to wear a short-sleeved shirt in the middle of winter. Kisa-chan has his trenchcoat on, it’s long enough to cover her knees. It’s cute on her. The bartender gives him an odd look, but he just smiles back.

There are two men sitting on barstools, who he recognizes as Yokozawa-san and Kirishima-san, from Marukawa. He looks away, not wanting to talk with them. It was odd seeing them somewhere other than the bookstore, and together, at that.

They take a seat at a booth. “Do you want to get anything to drink, Kisa-chan? It was quite a long walk…” asks Yukina, who looks frigid.

Sayuri holds her head in her hands, “...Can I just have some water? I’ve been drinking way too much today.” She muffles her mouth with the sleeve of the coat, “It’s not good for me, I don’t think…” She closes her eyes momentarily, drawing in a slow breath. The sleeve smells like Yukina, and suddenly, she is very, very calm.

 

His eyes soften, “Oh, alright.” He gets up from the booth to speak to the bartender. Moments later, he pours water from an elegant pitcher, like the ones you see in restaurants, into a clean whiskey glass. The ice clinks against the rim.

Sayuri runs her fingers through her hair. She feels very special at the moment. It was like him and her were on a little date, like they were a normal couple. _ Couple… _ She shivers a bit, goosebumps prickling her bare legs. She regrets not wearing pants. She regrets not having the time to put on pants. She regrets many things.

Yukina comes back and hands her the glass. She accidentally touches his fingers and flinches, the water sloshing around. Her face turns red, and she quickly puts it down on the table, placing her hands on her lap.

Yukina sits to the opposite of her. It’s quiet for a moment.

 

“Oh!” Kisa finally exclaims, her eyes lighting up, “I just remembered what I wanted to ask you! Um, the other night-” She stops speaking.

Yukina tilts his head, “What?”

“Ahahaha…” She looks down, “Nevermind. It’s embarrassing.”

He pouts, teasing, “Ehhhhh? That’s not fair, Kisa-chan~! Tell me!”

She glares at him, “...Fine. Well, um, i-it’s not like I was... stalking you... or anything…”

Yukina raises an eyebrow.

“D-Don’t look at me like that!! Seriously. I was just out with, um, a regular, and I saw… you… with some guy… or something… N-not that it’s a big deal or anything!”

Yukina could practically hear her heart beating from across the table. Her face is beet red. He doesn’t really get it. He questioned, “And…?”

“Well, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. That’s all.” Her statement was louder than it needed to be. She sinks into the seat, clearly embarrassed.

“…”

“Eh? What?”

“W-What do you mean ‘what?’” she sputters.

Yukina scratches the back of his neck, “I’m just confused as to what exactly you’re talking about, Kisa-chan.” He laughs nervously to cover up the silence.

She presses her face into jacket’s sleeves, “Um- Uh- I-I don’t care if you’re gay, Yukina, really! I mean, um, I have gay friends that would be really hypocritical of  _ me _ to be against that… Haha…” She wants to disappear.

He smiles tensely, “I’m not into men, Kisa-chan. Honestly.”

“Ah, well, that’s good-” She tensed up, “I mean, _huh_? Then what was _that_ then?! Why would _you_ , straight guy, be getting all touchy with some _man_ in _the_ _fucking love hotel district_ _!?!_ That doesn’t add up!!”

Something clicks in Yukina’s mind. He chuckles, “O-OH! Oh my god, Kisa… N-No, there’s a movie theater that just opened up down there. We just went to see a movie, haha.”

“Eh,” Kisa sinks lower into the seat, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

An aura of tension wipes over the booth.

 

“Kisa-chan,” Yukina tries to change the subject, “So… What was up back there?”

“Huh?”

“About the yelling and stuff.”

“Oh,” she touches her hair, her face growing solemn, “Haha… It’s just… My boss… I don’t think I can be silent about this anymore,” Kisa-chan’s fingernails tap on the glass of ice water, looking at the table below her, “Or rather, I don’t think I have an option. He’s going to kill again.”

A nervous smile grows on Yukina’s face, “Pardon?” His voice quavers, “W-What’s this about murder again-?”

“Yukina-san,” she interrupted, tugging on her sleeve, “I-I haven’t talked about this out loud, like, ever. Do you mind if I just ramble? I can’t really think straight right now.”

There are dark circles under her eyes, she looks really tired, of everything. And tipsy. She brings the glass of water to her lips and drinks in slow gulps. Yukina shivers, then nods.

“I was kidnapped ten years ago,” she pauses, blinks, and repeats, “I was kidnapped ten years ago by my,” she makes lazy air quotes, “‘boyfriend.’ He actually worked for my current,” air quotes, “‘boss,’ and was ‘dating’ me to test if I would be good enough for my ‘job.’ I was in college at the time. Twenty.”

_ Eh? _

She shifts her glance to the wall, lowering her voice, “I got raped, beaten, starved, et cetera, et cetera, for about… I don’t really know how long it was. Must've been a few months. After a week or so, the other girls there started to bring me food. He really disliked me. He disliked my body and made me feel that way too, I guess. Well, I’ve always felt that way.”

Yukina stares ahead blankly, the situation being too uncanny for him to really comprehend. She’s shaking and Yukina can't tell if it's from the cold or… what. He wants to tell her to stop, but doesn't say anything.

 

“After a few weeks… I think it was weeks… He made me write a suicide note, and he sent it to my parents, I gave him the address.” She drinks from the whiskey glass, “They must have been looking for me the whole time. They must have been so worried, especially my brother… I’m so lucky to have a supportive family, most of the girls don’t even have that…

“I think it was June when I began working there. I would just clean and serve drinks and stuff like that. He didn’t pay me, though. It’s not like the rape stopped either. Now it was with the customers too. It took him a while to actually let me, well,  _ work _ there. He didn’t want me to drive off customers with the way my body is. I mean, I didn’t necessarily want to either. I just felt bad for everyone having to buy me food. I’m… My body isn’t  _ correct _ , so I haven’t made much money from customers since. And then he takes most of my money just because… so I make about 1500 yen a week. If that makes sense.”

He doesn't necessarily understand what Kisa’s talking about, but it feels like he does.

Her lips make a popping sound. Her lipstick is smeared past the liner. It's red, and cheap. “That's the way it is.”

 

“When I first got there,” she swallows, “Ani-chan, she’s there too, she told me… about the girl that she used to be friends with, and that she tried to escape, and that… she didn't make it out.”

At the bar stool, the man Yukina recognized as Kirishima-san let out a laugh in response to what the man he recognized as Yokozawa-san said. The pit in Yukina’s gut grows. This situation was too nightmarish to be real, too fake. Like the movies. The documentaries.

“The boss never gives us meals or anything, but after he killed her, Ani-chan said that they ate these thick, bone-in steaks and meat stew that lasted them two weeks. And one night, she nearly choked on a bullet and she couldn't sleep for days. I believe her. She wouldn't lie about her best friend like that.”

 

“Yukina-san, you look sick. Are you okay? 

“Yukina?”

 

“S-Sorry, I just… I’m going to the restroom.” He stands up abruptly, making his way to the back of the bar.

“Oh, okay,” Sayuri responds, bringing the glass of water to her lips again. She notices how sweet the water tastes here. Back at home, all she gets is grainy tap water that comes out a weird color when you first start the faucet. I should save up some money up to go out with the girls, she thinks. This felt high-class, this bar. Or, perhaps, it was an illusion. Anything coming out of that fancy bottle should taste good. Anyone wearing lacy lingerie and bright lipstick should be happy.

She takes a small sip of the water again. _Clean._

 

Yukina vomits into the toilet bowl, sweating profusely. His head is pounding, his breaths are quick. “Fuck. Fuck!” There's someone in his slamming the ‘panic’ button, but he can’t find anywhere to run. This whole time…

This situation scares him, and he knew it was only half as scary for him as it was for her. She shouldn't be so calm. How could she be so calm? How could she be so nonchalant when talking about that? This stuff wasn't supposed to happen in real life. You're not supposed to be accustomed to it. So why was she? How did she get that way? It was insensitive, but not in a mean way. Not intentional.

Numb.

The rusted handle on the sink that reads “hot” squeaks when he turns it. All of the places in this area are so run down… Yukina cups his hands under the sink’s faucet. He brings them up to his lips, filling his mouth. The liquid swishes around before making its way back to the sink. He leans next to the paper towel dispenser, trying to calm himself down, collect his thoughts. He conjures a pack of mints from his pocket and pops two in his mouth. His heartbeat slows.

The faucet sprays water more powerfully than it should, and steam is rising from the bowl. When he brings his hands back under the stream, it’s scalding. He isn't phased. He lets his palms turn red. He desires to understand Kisa. He desires to make himself feel what she feels, to look at the world through her eyes. That is how you save someone. You must experience. You must learn.

 

There is no soap in the bathroom.


	14. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been two months and this chapter is still badly written,, sorry.

The bathroom door slides back into place with a soft click. Sayuri didn't hear it open. Yukina gives an empathetic smile is he sits back across from her, the leather of the cushions making unflattering noises. He clears his throat and places his hand in the center of the table, palm facing upwards. Sayuri knows that her heart should be beating out of her chest with such a gesture but it’s too calm, like the minute before resting becomes deep sleep. She places her hand limply on top of his, refusing to make eye-contact.

There was a certain form of shame that came with such a confession. The girls would always reassure her, as she would to them, that what happened that night wasn’t her fault. But it wasn’t just that night. It was every night. Nights adding up to the thousand where she would lay in her twin-sized bed and think that this was  _ fine, _ it didn’t matter to anyone that she was unhappy or had bad luck. Not bad luck, karma. Because she deserved this. She deserved every night.

“Kisa-chan,” Yukina begins, but doesn’t have anything to follow it with.

She feels like going home,  _ home _ -home, she wants to be still in bed, she wants to think. She wants to cry, just for a minute. Then everything will be normal again. Everyone will disappear.

“Please don’t be scared,” he brushes her knuckles with his thumb, “If you’re scared, it’ll make me scared.” He lifts his head, revealing his too-handsome face. He blinks slowly, his lengthy eyelashes fluttering. Sayuri wished she could have eyelashes like that. She wished.

“I’m not going to leave you there, okay? I’ll get you out, I promise.”

She wished that she never told him anything. He’s too perfect to be dragged into this mess. He still has dreams, something to live for. All Sayuri has is bad memories and silicon tits. What would she even do after they got found out? What does she dream about?

“I love you, Kisa-chan. I love you so much,” he breathes, repeating, “Please don’t be scared.”

She inhales sharply, surprised.  _ I dream…  _ Just an hour ago, she thought those words were something she made up in her head. Pushed up against that brick wall, what else would she think about?  _ I love you. _ Something real.

“Can I stay with you for the night?” She didn’t intend to say it, but it fell right out of her lips. She feels her body getting all hot just thinking about his response. Thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking, but at the same time, things  _ only _ she should be thinking. She shifts her legs.

“Of course,” he smiles and squeezes her hand a final time before letting go, “Do you want to go now?”

She forgets to respond in time. Everything looks like it’s glowing. She’s becoming hyper-aware of everything around her, growing warmer and warmer. It’s a new kind of paralyzation. “...can’t.”

He gets out of his seat, “Eh?”

He’s really, really pretty, “I can’t stand up.”

Yukina spins around, concerned, “Why? Is something wrong?”

She makes a silent remark about how much of a dumbass he’s being. She wants to touch him. Sayuri covers her red face with her hands, “Y-You know, idiot…”

He tilts his head, “Know what?”

_ God, how can I even like someone this dense? _ Like, he saw her naked before, right? That definitely happened… Right? It’s been hard to differ reality and drunken nightmares lately.  _ “I usually don't drink, s-so I didn't remember much…” _ He doesn’t… Sayuri glances up at Yukina, panicking internally.  _ Ohmyfuckinggodhedoesntknowihaveadickwhatthefuckamisupposedtodohowthefuckamisupposedtotellhimohmygodihatethissomuch- _

“Kisa-chan?”

“Yup!” She stands up in a crooked manner, trying to keep herself contained.  _ This feels weird… _ She awkwardly scoots out of the booth, flaring the trenchcoat outwards. It would be an extremely awkward trip back to his place.

  
  


“Sorry that it’s a bit messy, I hope you don’t mind.”

Yukina’s apartment is relatively small, a bedroom, kitchen, and living space shoved into one room. Or maybe cozy’s the right word. Several bookshelves line the walls, filled with volumes and magazines of shoujo manga and used sketchbooks.

Sayuri’s eyes light up when she sees them. All of her volumes had gotten worn and bent too far over the years, but his were clean and crisp with perfectly straight backings. She wants to run her fingers along the spines like it was her own personal bookstore.

“Coffee or tea, Kisa-chan?” Yukina asks, “I don’t really have anything else, sorry.”

She looks over her shoulder to meet his eyes, “Coffee, please.”

Yukina smiles at her, “Yup. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

_ Home. _ She glances over the titles on the shelves. She speaks to herself, “Wow… These are all of my favorites…”

Yukina fiddles with the coffee machine, “Eh? No way…”

“...Can I look at them?”

Yukina comes out of the kitchenette, leaning himself on the wall parallel his bed. Charmingly, he responds, “Of course.”

Sayuri removes one of his  _ Choco Kiss _ volumes, being as delicate as possible. The cover is smooth to the touch, glaring in the light. Getting new volumes like this at the bookstore has always been something comforting and nostalgic. She can see it beyond her eyes, entering a  _ Marimo _ with her mother to look for new manga to buy. Her mother never judged her for the feminine things that she wanted, even when she was little. Before. She misses her mother.

She flips through the book, stopping at one of her favorite chapters to read. She sits at a small coffee table near Yukina’s bed, indulging herself in the fantasy world.

Yukina watches her silently as she flips through the pages. “I don’t have an extra futon, so you can sleep with me… I-I mean, if you’re comfortable with that,” he scratches the back of his neck.

Sayuri shuts the book suddenly with a soft thud. She stammers, “Y-Yes! I mean, um, t-that would be fine.” She looks up at him for a moment, before becoming bashful and shoving her head in the volume once again. Her thoughts were bouncing around in her head like hot gas.

The coffee machine goes off. He pushes himself off the wall, “Oh! I’ll be right back.”

As Yukina turns his back on her, Sayuri’s shoulder slump. She exhales, trying to control her breathing. She has to say something, right?

“Sayuri!” Yukina calls from the other side of the apartment, “Do you want milk or sugar?”

“I’m trans!”  _ Huh? Wait, what did I just say? _ She looks behind her to see Yukina’s expression, shoulders tense.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” He cups his hand over his ear. She’s never been more thankful in her life for a loud coffee maker in her life. She slouches and sighs, “Just… black’s good.”

“Coming right up,” he jokes. Sayuri wants to die.

She hadn’t had to do this whole coming out talk in forever. It was always something that was blatantly obvious just by looking at her. Her jawline is too strong. Broad shoulders. Her Adam’s apple is the size of a literal apple, so she thought. It helped that she was already nearly naked in situations like this. The lacy lingerie is making her skin itch.

“Here you go~” Yukina hands her a mug of coffee.

She says ‘thank you,’ but what comes out of her mouth is, “I’m transgender.” Her mouth hangs open as she tries to process what she just said. Yukina’s still holding onto the cup handle. It’s taking all of Sayuri’s will to not scream.

He finally lets go of the mug and coughs, “So… What does that mean again…? Haha…”

She places her hands around the warm ceramic cup, “L-like, I was born as a guy. That’s all.” _I want to run away._

“Oh… Haha… What?”

_ I want to go home, right now.  _ She lowers her head, “...’m sorry. It must gross you out.”

He sits beside her, their knees touching. “No,” he reassures, “I’m not grossed out or anything like that… Just don’t really get it.”

She drinks from the mug, “You don’t really need to get it,” she touches her neck, “I just thought you should know.”

He snaps up, “Oh! That makes sense. I was wondering why had and ‘M’ on your license.”

_ He’s  _ such  _ a dumbass. _

He brings his arm around her, a nonverbal question, ‘Do you want a hug?’ Her heart is pounding, but she leans in, head falling on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he holds her waist, “After all of this is over… Please go out with me.”

She can’t form words. Her brain is all mush.  _ I dream... I dream of this moment. _ She hums the “y” of “yes,” but is cut off by a kiss. And when he holds her chin, its as if he doesn’t notice the jarringness of her jaw. It’s something delicate in his hands. Something feminine.


	15. 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? uploading a new chapter in under a month? absolutely insane. wild.
> 
> also, new desc.

She doesn’t think as she unloops the black buttons on Yukina’s trench coat. Sitting on _his_ lap, _his_ bed, her mind was empty, only seeing brilliant colors and intangible shapes. She slowly removes the top half of the coat, leaving herself bare. Too revealing. She wears a lacy white bralette, one that she had worn for years. Holes formed in the delicate lace with time, with cigarette burns. The decorative straps were ripped at one point, sewn back together with black thread.

In this lighting, something that wasn’t dark and musty as _Yokubou,_ Yukina could see everything. The truth: miles of scars down her shoulders, circular burns on her stomach, ribs protruding too far out, too thin.

Sayuri leans into his chest, whispering a shaky, “sorry.”

Yukina holds her, so, so gently, “You shouldn’t be sorry,” he says, “You’re beautiful, Kisa-chan. Please don’t think otherwise.”

She shudders, “Yukina-san…” She wants to deny it, say his words are false, but she can’t. It’s too much. Her hands reach around his back, pulling the ends of his shirt up. _Let me see._

The move he performs isn’t short of acrobatic, taking off that tightly-fitting thing with one swift pull.

Sayuri is awestruck. _Buff._ Her breathing is labored.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No,” she stumbles, hugging him, “You’re just so… pretty.”

He chuckles, “Well, I’m happy to be born pretty if Kisa-chan likes it.”

She smiles, a real one this time. Yukina cups her face at the sight and kisses her.

She feels truly safe for the first time in forever. Here, everything was fine. The past ten years were simply a bad dream. She wonders how she made it through them without him.

 

He breaks away suddenly, exclaiming, “Eh?”

“What?”

“What?”

“...What is it?”

“Umm…” His eyes are shifting rapidly, up and down. Her face, her lap, her face, her lap, her lap, her lap. “Huh?”

The trenchcoat is tented. She wants to die. “...Didn’t we already go over this?”

He shifts his legs, “We did?”

“Yes.”

“...Ah.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an airhead, Yukina?”

He pouts, “You’re so mean, Kisa-chan~!!! It’s just… I’m not really experienced… with this sorta… thing…” He staring at her crotch.

Sayuri’s face goes bright red, “Well… We’re like the same, so…”

He swallows, visibly sweating, “Y-Yeah… Wait!” he points at her chest in an accusatory fashion, “What about _those,_ then!!”

 _Those._ She clasps the jacket back together bashfully, “I got implants when I turned eighteen…”

“Uh-huh.” He seems dejected.

Her hands fidget. Was she not what he wanted? “Um,” she stammers, “I-if you don’t want to do it, t-that’s fine. I’m used to that, s-so…” Her heart starts beating in a different way, a wrong way. Her throat flips, accidentally spilling, “Please don’t hate me, Yukina. I don’t want you to hate me.”

She flinches when he touches her cheek. She wasn’t used to being touched in such an intimate way. It made her feel loved. It made her feel wary. Yet, she pushes back into his open palm, like a frightened animal that doesn’t know any better. What else could someone like her be?

“What are you talking about?” He rubs his thumb along her cheekbone, “I don’t hate you. I promise, Kisa-chan. It’s, um, just my first time to be in love with a girl like you though.” He pecks her forehead, “If that makes any sense.”

Her heart pounds. _Maybe this isn’t nervousness._ She leans forward, trembling. _Maybe…_

“Do you like me, Kisa-chan?”

She tenses up with the sudden query, “How- how am I supposed to know? I’ve never _loved_ anyone before, you know that… I mean… I don’t really know. My heart… has never beat this crazy before.” She’s never wanted to be close to someone this much in her life. It was something new, something real.

He pulls her closer, kissing her quickly, “Kisa-chan, don’t you think that’s because you’re seriously in love with me?”

 

For the past ten years of her life, sex has been the only purpose. It was what her job, how she was paid, the rules she lived her life by. If she was so comfortable with the idea, then why did this night feel so much different? When she was being used, when she was a commodity it was all about being submissive and small, pleasuring your customer, looking like a pornstar, making an ‘o’ with your lips when you pretend to come. With Yukina… With Yukina, it wasn’t like that. When Yukina would embrace her, they felt like equals. It felt human and natural. He would touch her in a way that didn’t make her seem like a fragile figurine, nor like a washed-up hooker. She felt like a woman, so sweet in his arms, so whole.

 

 

* * *

 

The moonlight in his apartment is different from her bedroom. It’s less harsh, less distant. Bright enough to make out shapes, dim enough for the details to fade away. The silhouette of their bodies are visible, limbs placed in inelegant positions. Yukina’s twin-sized bed can’t fit both of them side by side, so they face each other. Yukina’s just looking at her, her eyes. Warm, kind eyes. She can feel them gazing at her, she can hear his mind silently wandering, herself breathing, her heart pounding. She makes a small noise and smothers her face into the shared pillow, overwhelmed.

He touches her hair, “Is something the matter?” His whispers are quiet but so very close.

She turns flips in the bed, facing the wall instead of her pursuer, “No… It just doesn’t feel real.”

Yukina drapes his arm across her waist, “I know. It’s the same for me,” his voice brightens, “But I want it to be real.”

He kisses her neck. She shivers.

 

“What's your name, Kisa-chan?”

She closes her eyes, “...Shouta. Kisa Shouta.”

“That can't be right,” he runs his finger along her arm, “What's your _real_ name?”

“That is my real name,” her knees curl, reaching her chest. Fetal position.

“Tell me Kisa, I want to know. I want to know you.” He finds her hand underneath the blankets, running his fingers across her knuckles.

She thinks for a moment, pursing her lips. Behind her eyelids, there are flashes of green static and vanishing lights. “Sayuri,” she says, “My name is Sayuri.”

Yukina butterflies kisses along her back, “Sayuri? That's such a pretty name. Like a lily?”

“...Yes.”

“That's nice,” his eyelashes kiss her neck, “You look like a Sayuri.“


	16. 16

Mop in hand, Watanabe Ani loses herself in the space between the bar and the corridor. Faded. Blood is covering the cold concrete floors, she can smell it. And there, the martyr, Hitomi, blue eyes, bleached hair. Gunshots. Gunshots. Gunshots. The mop drags around limply with a nicotine-addicts twitch. She hears herself wail, stop it,  _ stop it. _ In the neon yellow bucket the mop goes. Her nose is the color of ripe cherries. Again, she falls. Again. There’s blood on her hands. Hitomi falls.

She turns the opposite ways, wringing the reddened water from the mop once more. Her gloved palm swipes under her nostrils. Here she was, alone on cleaning duty, yet there was Hitomi: a mass of splayed meat on cold, cold concrete. And there was the gun, resting its old joints atop the bar’s counter. Ani could pick it up, she could shoot it. She could fly through the mint parlor doors, pull the trigger eight times to his sorry skull. She could. She  _ should. _

If it were real, that is.

 

The mop meets the flooring with a slosh. Ani drags the once-white yarn behind her, lifting Hitomi’s corpse to clean beneath her. It’s no use. No matter how many years pass, the blood continues to pool around her stained sneakers. Eight shots and her heart still won't stop pumping. Maki was right. Hitomi was a stubborn whore.

 

Yuri-chan didn’t sleep beside her last night. And this morning, Yuri-chan didn’t wake her up in time for her shift at the florists. It’s two o'clock now. It was her job to be the one that worries. If she didn’t, no one else would. Sometimes she would go missing for days, getting on bad terms with customers. Still, Ani was worried. She didn’t want to lose anyone else.

But, right now, all she can do is mop. It’s a sad realization, how dependent she is on this job. Yet, she knows that she got herself into this. This dependency. She attached the ball to her chain herself. A self-reliant prison.

The boss’ voice is rather booming for a speaking tone, “I need you in my office.” His frame blocks off the corridor, indifferent to the body near his feet.

Ani’s head sharply rises. Her hands twitch as she thrusts the mop into the yellow bucket, “One sec-”

“Now.”

She clams up, letting the mop drop. Her head is bowed as she follows memorized steps. Walking around the bronzed stain of her friend, awkward steps to avoid treading on her. That would be a sin, that she is sure of.

 

Chipped mint parlor doors swing back and forth, slowly coming to a stop. Right now, through one of his computer speakers, she can hear Saki-chan sleeping off a hangover. In one of the small boxes of the computer monitor, her small body is curled into a smaller ball beneath yellowed sheets. Her sister’s ex-boyfriend, Yamashita Akio, has his eyes glued on that particular section. He eats a convenience store sandwich in slow, selfish bites. He doesn’t look over at her, just greets her with, “Hi, Ani-chan. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? How’s Maki doin’?”

In her head, there is a scream. In her mouth, “She is well.”

“So,” the boss sits behind his desk beside the bad man, “Where did Kisa go last night?” Very demanding.

“I-I’m not sure, sir. I was trying to contact her this morning, but she left her phone here-”

“Bullshit.”

She dips her head. It was the truth, she knew that. Yet the way he raises his voice… It made her believe it was a lie. She scratches the base of her palm, “I-I really don’t know. I’m a bit worried…”

The boss grimaces at her, and sighs, “Alright then.” He frantically scrolls through hundreds of hour-long files, clicking on one of the most recent. “Look,” he demands of her. It’s another tape of security footage, this one focused on the entrance of the club. He clicks through the first few minutes, countless of people pouring in and out of the door. “Ah. Here,” he lets the video play.

Yukina-- or at least the guy that looks like him-- comes flying out the door, followed by Yuri-chan concealed in a trench coat. Ani bites her lip, hiding her smile.  _ Ah… So she is okay. _ They begin this screaming fight, but Ani can read her lips. It’s clearly fake; Ani herself used the same tactic to escape from this place every once and awhile. The scene plays out, ended by them running up the stairs and out of frame. The boss stops the film.

“Oh no!” she acts, pasting a solemn look on her face, “I hope she’s safe! That looked scary… I wonder who that guy is...”

The boss is point-blank and unsentimental, “Stop lying.”

Her fingers twitch, “Um, really, I’m not sure who it is. I’ve never seen him around here before.”

He clicks his tongue, a sign of giving up. “Well, whatever. I don’t care what happens to her anyways. Go clean up.”

“Ah,” she straightens her back, pacing toward the exit, “Yes, right. I-I’ll get to it.”

 

There’s a sound booming through the windy corridors of this basement home. His harsh voice,  _ “I don’t care what happens to her anyways.” _ Ani feels sick, her steps growing weary. She couldn’t clean right now. She couldn’t bear to be in the main room, to see that false body sprawled out on the floor. She couldn’t because she knew. She knew that it wouldn’t be Hitomi’s sad face in that hallucination. It would be Sayuri’s.

 

Not caring that  _ they _ were watching, Ani takes a seat on the bed across from Saki-chan’s. It was, in modern language, her bed. But in the moment, it just felt like a mattress, like any other. The sickly sheets envelop her. She reaches for the ashtray on the bed to the right, along with a cheap pack of cigarettes. She lights one with the ashes from the morning, taking a well-deserved drag. She knows what these chemicals were  _ supposed  _ to do to her brain. But right then, she was breathing in the anxiety. There’s not much else she could do but let it fill her lungs. She let that bad smoke take here somewhere new, but exactly the same.

 

* * *

 

She loved softer mattresses, little feather beds that you could sink into. A cloud holding you in every contour. Thousands of small, warm hands that beckon you to lay with them, beg you not leave.

His comforter is like that too, a tempting plush cover. Yukina’s torso was the perfect juxtaposition. His breaths are slow and silent. She doesn’t want to move, not ever again. Yet, she tastes the anxiety flooding from the heat vents without opening her mouth. Yes, she would like to stay. That cannot happen, though. That’s not possible.

Her mind protests as her body rises. She stretches out her arms, hearing her shoulders creak. Yukina’s arms droop around her waist. There, the black, black anxiety. She knows what was going to happen when she went back to her fake home.  _ Home.  _ Someone said once, “Home is a person.” Yukina’s kind eyelashes do not flutter. They rest.

Then, an alarm. Sayuri jumps, making a hushed sound. Yukina’s arms retract to his tired eyes, he releases a groan. Sayuri smiles softly and presses the supposed ‘off’ signal on his phone. His eyes shoot open at the absence of sound, meeting the other’s torso.

“Oh,” he relaxes, letting his head fall back into the pillow, “Hi, Kisa-chan.” He rests again, a stupid cheesy grin pasted on his face.

“Good morning…” Sayuri bites the inside of her cheek.

Yukina sits up, pausing for a moment, “Do you feel okay? You look a little sick…”

“I-I’m fine,” she blinks slowly, “I… I should probably get heading back.”

“Ah…” He leans on the girl’s shoulder, “You sure you don’t wanna stay for a while?”

_ Ugh… _ She looks away for a moment, sighing, “I’d like to. You know I can’t, though.”

“R-Right.” His head droops, “Sorry.”

“Mm.”

Sayuri silently stretches for her underwear; both pieces were strewn on the floor. “...Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. My shirts are in the top drawer and my pants are in the next one down,” he points at the dresser beside the bed and watches as Sayuri’s slender body moves, “They probably won’t fit you though, haha…”

She shrugs, pulling up her panties. Yukina swallows.

 

Sayuri picks out a white t-shirt with narrow black stripes, but when she puts it on, it fits more like a loose dress.

“That looks cute, Kisa-chan,” Sayuri hears Yukina say behind her.

She gives a sheepish grin, pulling down the bottom of  _ his  _ shirt. It smells nice. “Thank you,” she spins around and gives him a peck on the lips, “Text me later, ‘kay?”

Yukina returns to a flustered state, choking out, “Y-Yup! Have a safe trip!”

“Mhm!”

 

With the closing of the door to Yukina’s flat, the anxiety has finally taken its roots. Sayuri flies down the stair, heart pounding. She spent too much time out, and Yokubou was too far away, and she  _ would  _ be punished, this she knew. A sickness grows in her stomach. A sickness that she should be used to by now. A ten-year-old nausea.

 

After running down the streets of Tokyo for ten minutes, she stops to rest on a bench, holding her stomach. Of all the grand temples in the city, she happened to be near the shabbiest of them all. A small, brown structure with a shoot to drop coins and the promise of a fortune.

Her family was far from religious, but they would often stop at these temples when she was a child, praying in terms of respect rather than belief. However, Sayuri always found them silly, never understanding the purpose of the niceties.

Yet, she picks up the 100-yen piece left on the bench’s arm. With wavering arms, she tosses it into the well, whispering a hopeless prayer. She does not retrieve the fortune scroll when it is dropped. What use would she have for it? Her fortune wouldn’t remain static. Not for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i've been working on a few things since the last chapter, so i'll update you on them now.
> 
> first off, i wrote six (technically seven) new oneshots for the trifecta couple!! wooo!!! you can find all of them [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1045856/)  
> also, i've finally created a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/thanksily/)!! if you like this work and others, feel free to donate! it'll help me out a lot (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b  
> finally, i'm starting to work on a (super secret) project for my non-fanfiction works. if you'd like updates on that follow my [tungler](https://juroguro.tumblr.com/)
> 
> this fic is slowly coming to an end ;-; and the worst part is, i don't know what to write for any of it........... stay tuned, fam squad
> 
> (thanks for 700+ reads!!! <333)


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